Chuck vs La Belle Dame sans Merci
by Grayroc
Summary: What if Chuck had met Sarah in more unpleasant circumstances? We meet Chuck in 2004, life hasn't got any better for him since he got expelled from Stanford. He got caught hacking and was coerced into working for the NSA as an analyst.
1. Chapter 1

**Chuck vs La Belle Dame sans Merci**

 **A/N –** _Not quite a prequel, rather an alternate path for Chuck and the gang to meet. What if Chuck had met Sarah in more unpleasant circumstances? This story is A/U in that Chuck doesn't have the Intersect, at least not the version Bryce sent him._

 _Thanks to michaelfmx who has agreed to edit the story and for his valued input._

 _O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,_

 _Alone and palely loitering?_

 _The sedge_ _has withered from the lake,_

 _And no birds sing._

-John Keats

 **Chapter 1**

 **Washington - September 24** **th** **, 2006**

Hi, my name is Chuck and here are some things you may not know. I'm an analyst and low level IT nerd for the NSA. I work in a nondescript brown brick building inside the Navy Yard. I'm not important enough to work at Ft. Mead. I mean after all, I'm only a contract employee. This red and brown brick 'Orwellian' structure lacks only the smell of boiled cabbage wafting through the hallways to make it totally '1984'.

I've been doing this job for two years.

Two long years.

After getting kicked out of Stanford for cheating on an exam …. and by the way I didn't cheat! Bryce Larkin reported my alleged nefarious act to Professor Fleming and then to the Provost.

Stanford greased the wheels of justice so that I was out on my ass before you could say, 'Bryce, why don't you sleep with my ex-fiancé Jill'.

I admit that I went into a bit of a slump for two years, moved back in with my sister Ellie and went back to work at the Buy More. In hind sight I think I was a touch depressed. So, just when you think that things can't get any worse, guess what, they did.

I'll make a much longer story short.

My best friend Morgan worked with me at the Buy More. He is in so many ways the little brother I never had.

Anyway, Morgan got a piece of code from a so called friend (who he'd never met in the flesh). His new web friend (whose name was Vladimir Shadrin), told him this code would allow him to get past the security on many sites.

Morgan didn't like to pay for things and thought it fair game to get into web sites and download music and movies for free. His sole rationale for this sort of behaviour was that the big corporations were making lots of money already.

As it turned out, the code he was using wasn't bad, not up to my standards mind you, but not too shabby.

Morgan had two weeks where he was 'a kid in the candy shop'. He gorged himself on free downloads. He then went into one web site too many. The last website was a Federal site and the FBI came calling.

Morgan's face turned scarlet and he had enough sense to tell me what he'd been doing, literally as the FBI were at the front entrance to the Buy More, looking in. How did I know they were FBI? And how did they know to come to the Buy More?

Excellent questions.

The big, yellow 'FBI' on the back of one of the agent's windbreaker was a good clue about who they were.

Morgan's guilty face told me all I needed to know concerning the second question. He'd been using the ill-gotten computer code on computers I was fixing in the back security storage area. His own computer still wouldn't work because of the Irene Demova virus, that foxy Russian minx.

As the agents approached the Nerd Desk, I realized that my little buddy would never survive if he had to go to jail. I probably wouldn't survive either but what the hell … my life wasn't exactly going anywhere, and I'd always looked out for Morgan.

As the agents stood in front of both us. They flashed their badges and I blurted out, 'I did it'. To Morgan's credit he looked at me with his mouth hanging open. He then quickly turned to the FBI agents and said, "NO! I'm the one you want."

So they arrested both of us.

We were taken to the FBI office on Wilshire Blvd. They put us into separate rooms. I waited in a small room with a mirror at the other end for two long hours. I'd seen enough movies and read enough books to know that this was the way they messed with your mind.

Well guess what? It works, so by the time FBI Agent Laura Henderson (according to her ID badge) walked in, I was really nervous.

She put a file on her desk and then spent the next ten minutes reading it, sorting through documents. During this OCD process she'd mastered, she never looked up at me once. You'd think I'd committed a crime … wait, I had just confessed to committing a crime, shit.

Finally, she looked up at me and uttered her first words. "Breaking into a Federal website is a felony, under 18 USC 1030 (a)(2). You're looking at five to ten years of hard time. Here is the code you used to break into the sites".

Agent Henderson pushed the paper across the table. "Tell me how the code works to penetrate the firewall."

This was the first time I'd actually seen the code Morgan had been using to get into all the web sites, so I had to stall until I could actually look at it.

I studied it for three minutes. It wasn't bad. I lifted my head up, looked into Agent Henderson's brown eyes and explained how it worked. When I finished I sat back in the incredibly uncomfortable chair. We looked at each other for a very long minute. She then pressed a button under the table, collected her papers, closed the file and left.

I waited for another four hours.

I was hungry, tired and a little bit north of nervous. I kept thinking of who my new cellmate would be at Fed Max … maybe Tony 'two fingers', from the Scalesi crime family'. Now both my legs were moving up and down under the table.

The door to this minimalist room opened again and two men in dark blue suits, white shirts and dark blue ties came in. I immediately labelled them nerd one and gorilla one. The nerd was easy to spot, built like a beanpole, thick framed glasses. He probably couldn't run to the washroom without getting winded. The guy built like a gorilla was an entirely different matter.

He was easily as tall as me, maybe fifteen years older and looked like he had packed on an extra thirty pounds of solid muscle over the years. Tony 'two fingers' was looking better to me as a future cellmate with each passing moment. Just get me away from gorilla one.

They sat down and flashed their badges and 'cred' packs at me. Nerd one called himself Michael Nawratil. Gorilla one called himself John Casey. I caught the NSA bit of their introduction. Inwardly I said to myself, _'Oh, oh, I'm in big trouble'_.

I also wondered what Federal website Morgan had tried to hack. I regretted my impulse to help Morgan out of his jam. Too late.

Again, not to belabor the story, let me give you the CliffsNotes version of our discussion. Actually, it was a monologue from gorilla one, er … sorry don't want to be rude … from NSA Agent John Casey. I had two choices, go to prison or work for the NSA. Apparently they were always on the lookout for hackers who showed some promise.

If I agreed to work for them, they'd let Morgan go and there would be no record of his arrest.

I found out later that Agent Henderson had asked Moran the same question she'd asked me. "Tell me how the code works to penetrate the firewall." Fortunately for Morgan, he didn't have a clue how the code actually worked to bypass the firewall. He made a good effort to bullshit them but failed miserably.

That's when they became convinced that I was there man. Great.

You know that saying, that people judge a book by its cover … well the agents looked at Morgan, then at me, talked with Morgan then with me …..and tag, I was it.

Michael, the nerd, informed me that the code I had been using was average, not great. However, my answers to Agent Henderson indicated I showed some potential, plus I had gone to Stanford. They already knew I had been expelled, and mentioned it once or twice. John Casey told me he hated cheaters, great, I'm already on his good side.

Michael then told me that the NSA would make me a better hacker, all I had to do was sign a three year contract. I wouldn't be an employee, as such, therefore, no government benefit's, and no pension.

As I was signing the incredibly one-sided three year contract (terms like, if I quit or failed to measure up I would immediately go to jail), I smiled to myself. They had no idea that I was the 'Piranha' and that they, along with the CIA, had been looking for me for the last five or six years to put my ass in jail.

My goal during the next three years was to make sure they never found out how truly gifted a hacker I really was.

So, that's my story. I've now been at the NSA for two years. Each day I cross off another day spent at the face of the salt mine.

Oh yes, one more thing before I go. Once or twice I spotted different pieces of data and, against my better judgement, made some suggestions, you know connecting the dots. Big mistake! I was hauled in front of some Director, whose name I've long since forgotten, and told I would now do low level analysis from time to time.

So now I'm not only the lowest level IT guy. I'm now at the lowest level of a sea of analysts.

Wonderful, way to go Chuck. Now I get to be two small cogs in a massive wheel. When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?

Before I left for Washington Morgan promised me he would stay out of trouble and stay away from people named Vladimir, Yuri and Irena.

So, there you have it. I think I've brought you all up to date.

 **Washington - October 24** **th** **, 2006**

It was another day of 'hacking' and reviewing files for Chuck. He had been tasked by his bosses to follow a Colombian cartel bad guy, named Emilio Fuertes. He'd followed dear sweet Emilio for almost a year.

Emilio was a lieutenant in the Jaconde crime family, a sad day for the good folk in Colombia because this gentleman was an up and comer. Smart and ruthless with boundless ambition.

Promotion in most of the crime families was usually through attrition or assassination. Emilio would've fit in nicely in ancient Rome with Octavius and the boys.

Chuck faithfully read the materials, listened to the intercepts and translations and filed his reports.

He felt that filing reports was like taking your printouts and putting them in one of those plastic cylinders that get inserted into those old vacuum tube systems. You pop the tube in, there is this loud sucking sound and you never know where it goes, who reads it, or if anyone really cares. Maybe they went directly to the furnace room?

Chuck's cubicle was 8'x 8', 64 square feet. He had a desk, two computers, a filing cabinet, a small framed picture of Ellie, Devon and Morgan and his plant. It was his pride and joy, an English Ivy that he called 'Rosebud'.

Chuck's telephone rang. He was thoroughly shocked by the sound it made because he'd never heard it ring in the two years he'd been working at the Navy Yard. All his communication was done on his computer through email and text messages to his cell phone.

So, like a curious dog he cocked his head to one side. He looked and listened as it rang five times. Finally his right hand snaked out and picked it up and put the receiver to his ear.

The call was short and sweet. He was to go to Ft. Mead, a car was waiting for him downstairs. Chuck then heard two words. "Leave now!"

 **Ft. Mead, MD – One Hour Later**

Chuck's game plan after he'd signed his three year contract with the NSA had been to keep a low profile. On the hacking front, he knew his rated performance was 'average'. Excellent.

As an analyst he tried to keep a low profile but from time to time he saw things that others seemed to miss, so he mentioned what he saw in his filed reports. Thus far his reports had disappeared into the ether, vanished like smoke on a windy day.

From Chuck's perspective, no news, no feedback from his bosses, was good news. It meant that he was keeping a low profile. Being taken to Ft. Mead in a black government SUV was not keeping a low profile, shit!

He was given a very intimate inspection with a wand by an intense looking older man, as he entered the building. Not intrusive at all. Then he was reluctantly given a visitor's badge and escorted by an NSA agent to the conference room.

As he walked into the room, he saw five people sitting at the table. There was one chair that was empty. As he walked to what he fervently hoped was his chair his blood pressure shot up.

Sitting across from him was gorilla one, er… John Casey.

When Casey saw him, he grunted. Chuck wasn't sure whether that meant, 'Hello, nice to see you again', or 'Not you again'.

The person at the head of the table cleared her throat once and called the meeting to order.

She introduced herself as Director Stephanie Kubiak, in charge of South American operations. Stephanie Kubiak had that emaciated lean body look that seemed to be fashionable in DC. A steady diet of salad, cottage cheese and tofu was probably her food regime.

She was wearing a blue power suit with a little American flag on her lapel. Ambition burned brightly in dear Stephanie's eyes.

She then introduced John Casey as a field agent. Chuck took a good look at Casey and concluded that he was military or ex-military. He noticed the body language around the table and decided that Stephanie might be chairing the meeting but she wasn't running the show.

James Fong was middle aged, with a hairline that was racing back from his forehead with the march of time. He was in charge of SIGNIT, signals intelligence. Chuck smiled at James, who smiled back at him. Chuck decided immediately that he liked James, a born nerd if there ever was one.

Jonathan Swinson was in charge of FININT, financial intelligence. Chuck generally liked finance guys, they were usually introverts who kept to themselves. He could relate to that. And finally there was Carina Miller, a DEA field agent.

For the last two years the analysts that Chuck worked with would talk about these mysterious, kick –ass, ninja type, amazons who did covert work. Chuck thought that a lot of this watercooler chatter was the analysts letting their fantasy world intersect with the real world. He'd never seen any such creatures except in Hollywood movies.

Carina might just be the wish fulfillment for all his fellow analysts back at the Navy Yard. Chuck smiled to himself. He wondered if, after the meeting, he might ask Carina for a selfie with him. On second thought, maybe not a good idea.

Carina looked right at him. Chuck was very happy that his mouth didn't hang open. She was gorgeous, with long dark brown hair that spilled down softly onto her shoulders. It was the eyes that transfixed him. Piercing blue eyes set in a lovely face with a hint of freckles on her nose and cheeks.

She gave him a ghost of a smile and then slowly looked away. Chuck hoped no one heard him gulp.

Stephanie then introduced Chuck as an analyst who was a leading expert on Emilio Fuertes. Chuck was stunned. ' _Me, an expert … what the …?_ ' How the hell had he become an expert? He didn't even speak Spanish. Apparently someone in the ether was actually reading his reports.

Keeping his head down didn't appear to be working.

Carina gave him a quick look. Then the briefing commenced.

Chuck had one of those out of body experiences as if he was sitting up high in a corner, detached from what was transpiring, but able to observe all the players, including himself. Weird.

The gist of the briefing was that terrorists were slowly making alliances with some cartels to use their existing pipelines for drugs into the US. They wanted to smuggle in weapons and explosives.

Emilio had been spotted in Europe by the FIS, the Swiss intelligence group, meeting with a suspected arms dealer in Geneva.

Stephanie offered up a really juicy bit of intelligence, there was an informer close to Emilio. The informer said Emilio was going to attend a meeting in Charleston, SC, tomorrow. The informer had given them a location, a time and that number twenty-two on the most wanted terrorist list, an Ahmad El….something or other, would also be there. He was the primary target with Emilio being the secondary.

James Fong, the signals guy, said that they had identified Emilio's SAT phone at the location given to them by the informer. They hadn't broken the encryption he was using, that would take their NSA computers another two weeks. But it was definitely one of the phones Emilio used.

Jonathan, the finance guy, then mentioned that the Second Palmetto Savings Bank had been flagged as possibly having a connection with the Jaconde crime family.

John Casey then spoke. Chuck leaned forward to hear him better.

Casey thanked James and Jonathan for their input and, with a nod of his head towards the door, clearly suggested they were free to go. They seemed relieved and scurried out of the room. Chuck also got up to go, eliciting a loud grunt from Casey. "Numb nuts, you can sit back down, you're still needed."

Chuck looked longingly at the door and wished he was on the other side of it.

Casey continued. "Carina and I will be leading a four man team into the warehouse area near Drum Island in Charleston".

Stephanie pressed a button on her laptop, photos and maps of the warehouse district flashed up on a screen that had appeared quietly. Carina leaned forward and no longer seemed bored by the proceedings.

Chuck looked at the photos and maps as Casey discussed the route the assault team would take and the backup teams that would be standing nearby. Casey then turned to Chuck. "So, mister expert on Emilio Fuertes, what is the latest information you've seen?"

Chuck cleared his throat. "Well, obviously I didn't know about the informer, who is it?"

The silence in the room was colossal. Carina, Casey and Stephanie glanced at each other as if Chuck was an idiot. Then Chuck got it, they weren't going to tell him who the informer was. That was way, way above his pay grade.

Chuck started again. "Okay, my bad. Emilio does have links with Hezbollah, ISIS and a Yemeni group we still don't have a name for." Chuck stopped talking, he needed to ask them a question. "So I don't waste your time, what's the last report I filed that you've read?"

Carina bent down and pulled out a file from her black Prada shoulder bag. "We've read everything up to last week. Is there anything you've seen in the last week? You do know that's why you're here, right Chuckles?"

Chuck was glad the lights in the room had dimmed for the AV presentation, he felt his face start to burn as a blush crept up his cheeks. It's always great to be appreciated. He answered softly, "There's nothing for this week that I've seen."

Casey grunted and was about to dismiss Chuck. He wasn't needed anymore.

Chuck glanced at the photos and maps again. He closed his eyes and quickly sifted through what he knew about Emilio. Something was bothering him. His mouth started to speak before his brain caught up.

"I don't think Emilio is in Charleston and, looking at the route you're planning to take, he might even be laying out an ambush for you."

All eyes around the table turned towards him. Casey's tone was now no nonsense. "Explain."

In that instance, Chuck longed for the days he worked at the Buy More. "Well, Emilio's daughter, Camila, apparently is due to give birth this week or next. In spite of the fact he's a monster, this monster loves and dotes on his daughter. If he's going to meet the terrorist, the meet will be somewhere in Colombia, close to home. This is a ruse."

Chuck at that point knew that he should now .. just .. shut…up.

But when he was nervous … his mouth ran away from him. "Also, if this is just a ruse or decoy, then all you've done is waste some time. And Emilio has made us look foolish. However, the layout of the warehouse and the route to get there is a perfect place for an ambush. You and Carina could be walking into a trap."

Stephanie started the cross examination. "We have a valued source, an informer who has given us credible information. SIGNIT and FININT back up what the informer has told us. And .. and your only refutation of the informer's information is that Emilio's daughter is going to have a baby. My God, who hired you!"

The contempt in Stephanie's voice for Chuck felt like a slap in his face.

Carina's tone was frosty, "How many years have you spent in the field …. Chuckles?"

Chuck shook his head and mumbled, "None, uhh, zero." Carina shifted her gaze to Casey. It was obvious in that second or so that they'd exchanged an unspoken thought.

Casey was next, and his tone was the harshest, "So, Bartowski, what branch did you serve in? How many ambushes have you set up? How many ambushes have you fought your way out of?"

Chuck was now looking at his hands. "I didn't serve, I've never been in a real ambush or set one up. But I've done a lot of online gaming and …." Chuck stopped talking because Casey gave a grunt that sounded like he was laughing. Casey shook his head and looked at Carina. Stephanie glared daggers at Chuck.

Casey nodded his head towards the door and Chuck realized he'd just been dismissed. Chuck left the room with three pairs of eyes boring holes into his back.

The NSA agent drove Chuck to the front gate and then dropped him off. Chuck shook his head, no ride back to the Navy Yard. He walked for forty minutes in order to get the route 175 bus, then onto the Odenton MARC station.

Two hours later, he arrived back at the Navy Yard after two more bus transfers.

Chuck kept playing the tape in his mind about the disastrous meeting he'd come from. They thought him a fool. Well, he still thought they were wrong and that he was right.

He really hoped he was wrong about the potential ambush.

 **The Next Day**

When he arrived at his desk, he watered his plant, got a coffee and reviewed his emails. One of his bosses, who he'd never met in the flesh, informed him he was no longer an analyst, starting immediately he would focus solely on IT.

He was also informed that there would be no change in his pay. Hmmm, they only ever paid him his hourly contract rate of $19.55, whether he was an analyst or not.

Chuck leaned back in his chair and smiled, the silver lining in the dark cloud of yesterday was he was back to being a small invisible cog. One year to go and he would be back in Burbank. Freedom.

 **Chuck's Apartment – Wednesday** **,** **November 1, 2006 - One Week Later**

Two years ago, when Chuck told Ellie and Devon he was going to work as an IT expert for the government (that's all he was allowed to tell her) in Washington, she was actually happy for him. "Chuck, this is great news, you'll love Washington, well maybe not the winter and maybe not the really hot humid summers …but you'll love it."

Devon reached out to a fraternity brother, Tom, who had a small studio apartment in Silver Spring, MD. Tom had been transferred to New York and was happy for a friend of Devon's to rent the apartment and cover some if his mortgage costs.

Chuck lived simply. After taxes, food, commuter fares and saving up to go back to Burbank twice a year, there wasn't a lot left. Thursday nights, he went out with some of the IT guys for a beer or two.

Oh yeah, he'd had two dates in the two years. Nice women who worked at the Navy Yard in the IT area. Both times he'd blown it by talking about what had happened at Stanford and with Jill. He obviously was still not over what had happened, and this job with the NSA hadn't exactly built his self-confidence up.

The knock at the door startled him. No one had knocked at the door since he'd moved here two years ago. And the security downstairs in the building was pretty good. Hmmm, he wondered if he should pretend he wasn't here.

Curiosity got the better of him.

Chuck opened up the door and his eyes widened. John Casey was on the other side wearing a brown Marine Service Uniform, gold oak leaf clusters were pinned to his collar and epaulets. Chuck had been correct, Casey was in the military.

They stood looking at each other. Casey was a fraction taller than Chuck so they were almost eyeball to eyeball. Casey had a brown bag in his right hand.

Casey grunted. "I have to meet with a Marine Major-General an hour from now?" He brushed past Chuck into the apartment and grunted. "Close the door Bartowski. We need to talk."

 **Same Day - November 1, 2006 –Antwerp- 96 Tulpstraat**

Chief Inspector Peeters looked at the scene laid out before him with a seasoned eye. He'd been investigating murders for fifteen years. Murders of passion, murders that sprang from greed, and occasionally he'd come across the work of a professional. Cold, methodical and lacking any passion.

Yes, he could see Jens Maes lying on the bed with no shirt and a neat single knife wound on his chest above his heart. But his pants and shoes were still on, if there had been any passion here, it hadn't gone very far.

Outside the bedroom lay the body of Hugo Maes, Jen's brother. He had a single knife wound in his throat. In his right hand was a nine millimeter Beretta. He'd bled out on the carpet.

The room had three forensic technicians scouring the room for clues. Fibres, fingerprints and DNA.

Inspector Peeters recreated the sequence of events in his mind. He suspected the assassin had been a woman. She'd taken out Jens with a single thrust of the knife into the heart. He looked closely at the wound. The woman, the assassin was not afraid of close work.

Hugo may have heard the sound, maybe not, it didn't matter. She took out Hugo as he advanced towards the bedroom. The knife was thrown with considerable accuracy.

The lead technician walked over to the Chief Inspector. "Everything in the bathroom and the bedroom has been wiped down with bleach. Oh, one other thing, the person who did this scraped under Jen's nails and wiped his fingers and mouth with bleach. I'm not hopeful we'll find any DNA."

The Chief Inspector shook his head. The Maes brother's had controlled the drugs going in and out of Antwerp for the last ten years, this would leave a very big power vacuum and the inevitable chaos this sort of thing caused. Next would come the power struggle as wannabe Caesar or Napoleon tried to become the new boss.

The brothers had crossed some invisible line, they'd upset some very powerful people. Perhaps they'd even upset certain governments, the Brits, the French, the Russians or the United States. Each of these countries had specialists who could do this kind of work.

The Chief Inspector would go through the motions, gather up the usual suspects, but knew that this file would never be closed.

 **Le Bourget Airport, Four Hours Later**

Colleen Gains, a young redhead travelling on a Canadian passport returned the rental car to Charles DeGaulle airport and disappeared into the ladies room. The red wig and the green contact lenses were quickly discarded into the garbage bin.

Ten minutes later Sharon Gibson, travelling on a British passport emerged from the ladies room. Her raven colored hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing a wide brimmed floppy hat that covered her face.

A battered black colored Peugeot, driven by a CIA operative picked Sharon Gibson up at the departure area and took her to Le Bourget Airport, only fifteen minutes away.

Sharon waited in the exclusive private lounge area. She was informed ten minutes later that her private charter, a C5, was ready. She was escorted out to the waiting plane.

Once the plane was in the air, Sarah Walker finally allowed herself to relax. She pulled off the black wig and put it on the seat beside her. She was the only passenger, there would be no interaction with the flight crew. Sarah reflected on her afternoon's work.

She reviewed what had happened. She asked herself the usual questions. What went right? What went wrong? What would I do differently, next time? She pulled out her phone and made some notes. She looked at the pictures of the Maes brothers, Director Graham would want the pictures for the file.

She felt no sympathy for the Maes brothers. They had started talking with the Iranian intelligence group called the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps Intelligence (IRCGI)Jens and Hugo had crossed the line from dealing drugs into smuggling arms. The mission had been sanctioned at the highest level.

Graham's final words to her before she set out for the mission had been, "Leave no trace that it was us, we don't want to upset our NATO allies."

 _ **A/N** \- Depending on the interest level out there, I hope this will be about twelve chapters_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** –

We meet another Chuck character. A big shout out to Fated Love and his story 'The Glorified Nerd' and the Sexy Secret Agent. I PM'd Fated Love to thank him/her for the inspiration for the last little bit of this chapter.

Thanks to michaelfmx for editing and his valued input.

 ** _O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,_**

 ** _So haggard looking and so woe-begone ?_**

 ** _The squirrel's granary is full,_**

 ** _And the harvest's done_**.

-John Keats

 **Chapter 2**

Major John Casey took off his peaked uniform cap. The visor had gold oak leaf motifs identifying Casey as a field grade officer. Chuck could see what looked like a lace cross stitched onto the top of the cap. He thought the cross was called a quatrefoil. A word he'd come across doing crosswords. The quatrefoil harkened back to the days of wind and sail. The mark on the top of the cap told your sharpshooters, who were up in the rigging, shooting down on the deck, who the friendly officers were.

Casey tucked his cap under his arm and walked to the kitchen table. Chuck caught site of the ring on Casey's left hand. He guessed Casey was a graduate of the United States Naval Academy. Although, if Chuck ever checked he would find no listing for a John Casey graduating from Annapolis.

He sat down carefully so he wouldn't ruin the crease in his pants. Chuck walked to the other chair. Halfway there he remembered his manners. "Would you like some coffee? A glass of water?"

Casey shook his head, then gestured with his right hand for Chuck to sit down.

Chuck sat down and had to bite his tongue. How did John Casey know where he lived? Okay, that was a really silly question. More importantly, what did he want to talk about? Was he planning to terminate the contract and send Chuck off to Fed Max?

Casey looked around Chuck's tiny studio apartment. It was neat and tidy and he did a half grunt. Chuck thought that might be some sort of affirmation that the apartment was properly squared away.

"Bartowski, I'm going to tell you a story and then you're going to forget what you heard. Got it?" Chuck loved to live in the land of double speak and warily nodded his head.

"We went to Charleston and we found nothing, well we did find a SAT phone that was programmed to send messages every four hours, no Emilio Fuertes, no Ahmad. Yesterday, Stephanie confirmed that her informer was found floating in the Rio Ambica with his throat cut."

Casey looked at Chuck and a whole minute passed. "One more piece of news, we have a picture taken off of Facebook, it was the page for a cousin of Camila's, you remember, Emilio's daughter.

"Camila had a baby boy. In the photo Emilio is standing proudly beside her."

After pausing for a moment, Casey spat out his next question. "How the hell did you figure out that it was a ruse?"

Chuck stood up and got himself and Casey a glass of water. He took a healthy sip to calm his nerves.

He looked over at Major John Casey and wondered just how much to share with this very intimidating man. Why the hell was he really here?

Chuck, in the several seconds it took him to go back to his seat, remembered back to when he was nine.

 _Nine year old Chuck knew it was 'verboten' to go into his dad's study when his father wasn't there. In fact that was the word his dad used to explain to Ellie and Chuck that this room was out of bounds, unless they were invited in._

 _Chuck's curiosity overcame his desire to obey his father. For a nine year old, it was too tantalizing to think about what secrets might be in the room. Maybe by going into his dad's study, he'd better understand why his father spent so much time in there and away from him and Ellie. Even though Stephen Bartowski was living with them, he was for all intents and purposes an absentee father._

 _The room was dark with all the wood panelling. The blinds were all pulled down and the curtains drawn. Chuck went to the computer and he pressed the enter button. That was when a thousand images flashed at him every two seconds._

 _The next thing he remembered was his dad kneeling beside him and cuddling him. He softly said, "Son, son are you all right?" Chuck nodded his head a couple of times and smiled at his dad. The relief on Stephen's face was palpable._

Chuck almost smiled with the memory, he remembered that for the next week his dad paid very close attention to him. Stephen was always asking him if his head hurt. Chuck suspected that what had happened to him in that room eighteen years ago had somehow changed his brain, changed him and changed how he viewed the world. He'd never mentioned it to anyone, maybe it was time to share what happened those long years ago with Ellie.

Chuck shook the memory away.

"Sometimes I make these leaps of logic or intuition, call it what you like. When I make these leaps of logic, I'm usually right. All I knew for certain was Emilio would not be far away from his daughter, at least not until after the birth of his grandchild."

Chuck looked at Casey. He had his attention. "At first ..I .. I wasn't going to say anything, but I was worried .. uhh ..about your team … I mean .. if it was an ambush. So, I spoke up."

Casey shared one more thing. "If Emilio had set up an ambush it would've been ugly. They could've easily set up a kill zone with little chance for my team to maneuver, fire, and break out. The backup team wouldn't have made it in time to help us."

Casey reached down for the brown bag near his right foot. He pulled out a bottle of Johnnie Walker, black label, and put it on the table. He then got up, put his uniform cap back on, squared his shoulders and left.

Chuck learned something important about John Casey that evening. Gestures were more important to him than words.

After Casey left Chuck jumped up and grabbed a small glass. He poured himself a healthy dram and gave a silent toast to Major John Casey, USMC.

 **Two Days Later- Chuck's cubicle, Navy Yard**

Chuck was scratching his head. He'd just received an email from another one of his bosses. He wondered what he or she looked like. The email was very short. _'You have been reinstated as an analyst'_. So much for keeping a low profile. The email concluded with, _'No change in your hourly rate'_.

Chuck actually laughed out loud when he read the last bit.

There was a single entrance onto his floor, where he worked. You needed an ID badge encoded with the appropriate security level to get in. There were forty cubicles in a large open space. Red brick walls, tall ceilings, large single paned windows and hardwood floors were the predominant features.

In the winter it was drafty, in the hot humid summers the air conditioning barely kept up. In the shoulder seasons, the fall or the spring, it was generally too warm or too cool.

Oh, how Chuck loved to work here.

There was usually a hum of activity with the analysts and IT support staff pounding away on their computers or talking to each other over their cubicle walls. The thin walls to each cubicle were only four feet high.

When Chuck looked around his office, he often thought about that movie from the 90s, 'Joe versus the Volcano'.

Chuck could see the entrance with his peripheral vision, and that's how he first caught sight of her. There was this flash of dark brown from her hair, and a white scarf around her neck.

He did a double take when he realized it was Carina Miller, the gorgeous DEA Agent.

She was wearing a black skirt that cut off an inch above her knees, black leggings, black boots that went up to her calfs and a supple black leather jacket. Chuck's eyes tracked her movements carefully. She was scanning the room from left to right looking for someone.

Chuck hunched down lower into his cubicle.

Chuck's universal number one rule. Stunningly beautiful women did not come looking for Chuck Bartowski. Rule number two, keep a low profile.

The hum in the room had disappeared, all the other analysts and IT staff were gawking at their fantasy dream come true. Some were actually standing up, others were peeking warily over their cubicle walls. Here, in their midst, was a genuine mysterious, drop down dead gorgeous, kick-ass , ninja type, amazon, field agent.

That's when the whispering started.

Carina smiled at a couple of the analysts. Then, in a voice that could be heard all over the room, she called out, "Chuckles, where are you?"

Chuck raised his head above his cubicle and Carina flashed him a 10 megawatt smile. She then said, "Show's over folks …back to work." She slowly walked over to Chuck's desk, perched on the edge and fixed him with those amazing blue eyes.

She then casually looked around his small cubicle, saw the plant and commented, "I love what you've done with the place, a 1950ish, IBM motif. The 'soul sucking grey' color of the cubicles is interesting."

Chuck stared and barely managed to keep his mouth closed.

"Chuckles …" Chuck interrupted her and quietly said, "Carina, what are you doing here?"

Carina leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "I've got a gift for you Chuckles."

Chuck raised his eyebrows and the total disbelief in his eyes made Carina laugh out loud.

Slowly, she narrowed her eyes. Her demeanor changed, she leaned forward again and whispered in his other ear. "Chuck, there's an important difference between confidence and arrogance. Arrogance gets you killed in my world."

She leaned back and then put a finger on his chest and tapped it twice with her manicured red finger nail. "You spoke up at our meeting because you were worried about Casey and me. "

"Casey told me that he visited you. He set up the clearances for me to come and visit you today." Carina shifted her position on the edge of his desk, to get closer to him.

"We didn't listen to you… because we were so damn important. We're the experienced agents and you were only a lowly analyst."

Carina grew reflective, Chuck waited. Finally she continued, "Fortunately there was no ambush, it was only a ruse. But if there had have been an ambush, Casey agrees with me, we were 'dead meat'."

She locked eyes with Chuck. Her blue eyes held Chuck captive and he felt his breathing quicken and his heart skipped a beat. He resisted the urge to squirm in his seat. But to Chuck's credit he didn't look away, he kept looking at her.

And then it happened in a single heartbeat. Carina smiled and her gaze softened. "Seriously, thank you for speaking up."

Then, in a blink of the eye, Carina's demeanor changed again. The sultry charm once again sparkled off of her.

She reached into the right pocket of her leather jacket and pulled out a little gold key chain with a "C" at the end. "Chuckie, now you can carry me around with you everywhere you go."

Carina's voice was just loud enough to be overheard in the neighbouring cubicles. She knew exactly what kind of impact her words would have on Chuck's fellow workers.

Chuck fingered the key chain. He was touched by the gift, it was the best thing that had happened to him in two years doing this thankless job. He looked up and, in a voice laced with sincerity, he said, "Thank you Carina."

Carina felt a spark of warmth inside that this little gesture of hers had been so gratefully received. She then had an idea. A smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. Chuck could see the mischievous look in her eyes and said, "Oh, oh."

Carina stood up, with her boots on she was easily over six feet tall.

Heads were popping up again over the cubicle walls. Carina motioned for Chuck to stand up. He did so slowly and reluctantly. She then said to him. "Walk me out … Chuckie .. please?"

Carina looped her arm through Chuck's arm as they walked towards the exit. Every person there tracked them, the tall lanky analyst and the gorgeous, kick-ass, agent, as they moved towards the door.

They both stood facing each other.

Carina motioned for him to lean forward so she could whisper in his ear. Her warm breath and the smell of sandalwood from her shampoo was intoxicating. "Chuck, I doubt that we'll ever see each other again, so goodbye.

"My second gift to you is to make you a legend, a Homeric figure in your office. One tiny piece of advice. Once I leave, when they ask about me, when they ask about us. Say, I can't talk about it, it's classified. Let them project their Nerd fantasies onto you."

Carina reached up and put her hands around his neck. She stood up on her tiptoes and pulled him into a kiss. She held the kiss for four or five seconds. Then patted him once on the chest with the palm of her hand and went through the door.

She never turned back to look at Chuck. Carina was a lady who only looked ahead, she didn't dwell on the past, and she tried never to have regrets. Karma was karma, no sense in dwelling on what might've been.

As Carina walked away she knew one thing for certain. Chuck Bartowski was the type of man she needed to avoid at all costs. Carina made a point of staying away from nice guys. Nice guys were poison.

She knew without a doubt that if she spent any amount of time around Chuck Bartowski, his kindness, his warmth and his humility would undo her. He would create a safe place for her to look inward and to start to ask herself some hard questions. Questions about her past and questions about her future.

She shook her head. No. Carina Miller needed to keep her edge as an agent. No regrets and no looking inward.

Chuck was still standing there at the exit when he noticed that everyone in his office was looking at him. He blushed scarlet red. He hurried back to his desk and quickly sat down.

It took him twenty minutes to regain his composure and start working again. He didn't leave his desk again, until everyone had gone home. He didn't want to talk with anyone about what had happened with Carina.

The inquisition from his fellow workers would start in earnest tomorrow. It was going to be a long day.

Memo to self, work much, much harder at keeping a low profile. Kissing gorgeous covert DEA Agent in front of everyone in the office was definitely not keeping a low profile.

One year to go and then he would back in Burbank. Freedom!

 **Washington D.C – Same Day – 2660 Connecticut Ave NW**

Sarah came through the door and dropped her keys into a ceramic bowl. She wheeled her carryon suitcase into her bedroom. She seldom unpacked the carryon, it was easier to live out of the suitcase. This was her home but it didn't feel like home.

The condominium was spotless but almost too antiseptic, too sterile. The agency provided a vetted cleaning service. The prints on the walls had been chosen by someone from the agency. She looked in the fridge. It had some bottled water, an open box of Arm & Hamer baking soda and a mummified orange sitting inside the fruit tray.

She picked up her phone and called for a pizza, no olives and sat down on a chair she hadn't chosen and had little investment in. The agency took care of purchasing the furniture also.

Sarah grabbed her phone and called Carina Miller's number, maybe she was between assignments and better still, close to D.C. Carina Miller was the one person who could make her smile and lighten the dark moods when they came upon her.

She hated being between missions. The last thing she wanted was to have too much time on her hands.

 **Five Months Later**

 **March 15th, 2007- Antietam National Battlefield -15:30**

 _Hi, my name is Chuck and here are some things you may not know._

 _The good news is that I only have six months left, or, if you want to be really accurate, 193 days left in my servitude to the NSA. The bad news is my bosses have sent me out to this National Battlefield Park on a cold, windy day. They're calling for snow flurries later._

 _So, if I may, let me explain bureaucracy 101 to you, at least the Washington D.C. version._

 _One month ago, the President made a speech that the threat of terrorism would not curtail citizens and visitors to the USA from enjoying this great country. So all the President's men had to translate those fine inspiring words into a policy and then take action._

 _Next, key federal agencies received a directive from the top that we should make popular tourist sites safer._

 _They say that shit flows downstream._

 _Last week, 10,000 federal employees were given the task of carrying out an inventory of all federal tourist sites across the country._

 _They sent us out in pairs, almost like the original disciples. The agreed ideal pairing was for a tech guy to go with and an agent who had some knowledge of what the terrorists might attempt._

 _My job, for today, is to accompany an agent, interview the park officials, look at when the busiest times are and then write a report. You know, steps that need to be taken to make Antietam Battlefield safer. Now, the irony of my last comment should not be lost on you because Antietam was not a safe place to be back in 1862._

 _It was the bloodiest single day in the entire Civil War, 3,600 killed and 17,200 wounded._

 _Oh, yeah, all this work has to be done in the next week._

 _Thus endeth this lesson on bureaucracy 101._

 _The good news is that the CIA agent they've paired me up with is a stunning brunette. Just in case you might've forgot, I seem to have a proclivity for brunettes. Are all female Federal agents beautiful?_

 _Agent Zondra Rizzo has brown hair, killer brown eyes and an olive complexion. This is the second kickass, ninja type amazon that I've met. Oh, I should also mention that she doesn't seem too talkative. At least she doesn't grunt like John Casey._

 _The drive up from the Navy Yard took us an hour and forty-two minutes. Once we got there we walked around, talked with the park officials and then went walking again by ourselves down by Burnside's Bridge._

 _We both agreed fairly quickly what would be in our report. It was pretty straight forward, add eight CCTV cameras, and train the staff at the center to watch for any backpacks or packages that were left unattended. Pretty much a wasted day for Agent Rizzo and myself._

 _The good news is that when I wake up tomorrow, I'll have 192 days left working at the NSA. So, I think that brings us up to date._

 **Silver Diner- Frederick MD, Same Day 18:00**

Zondra Rizzo was lost in her thoughts while Chuck was busy completing a crossword puzzle.

They'd finished dinner and were now having their coffee and dessert.

The drive down from Antietam had been very quiet. Zondra wasn't normally a chatty person, she'd sent out pretty clear signals that she wanted to be left alone.

Chuck had no trouble picking up the signals from Zondra. The message was clear that she wanted to left in peace while she drove.

Since she wasn't interested in talking, Chuck got out his iPhone and earbuds. He asked if she would mind him zoning out and listening to his music. Zondra nodded a grateful yes.

Zondra kept stirring her coffee and looking into her cup, as if the answer to all her problems was in the swirl of cream and medium roast coffee.

The last two years had been pretty dismal for Zondra and for her career. First there was the discovery of the transmitter in her boot. Then the accusation from Sarah Walker that Zondra was a traitor and had been sending Augusto Gaez, a terrorist for hire, information about the CAT squad.

Zondra had demanded a lie detector test and even submitted to taking a heavy dose of truth serum.

The CIA had officially cleared her of being a traitor. However, when Sarah Walker leveled such a serious accusation against you, well it was safe to say a lot of people in the CIA still had their doubts.

The problem with throwing accusations around is that it's like throwing mud. Mud sticks and it's hard to wash it off.

She wasn't allowed to go overseas and had been sent on what seemed a never ending series of boring missions. Zondra knew she wasn't the traitor, she would bet money that Sarah wasn't, and so that left Carina and Amy as the lead suspects. But that's where it ended. Carina and Amy were not under official suspicion.

Zondra seriously thought about resigning.

She looked across the table at the tall, lanky, curly haired analyst from the NSA. He'd respected her wishes not to chatter away in the car. He was smart and had made good suggestions where to place the eight CCTV cameras. She'd noticed an almost boyish enthusiasm as he walked around the battlefield.

"Chuck, have you been called on to monitor a bad guy called Augusto Gaez. He bases himself in Rio De Janeiro?" Chuck looked up from his crossword and almost blurted out, _'Oh, my God she speaks!'_ , but thought better of it.

"No, I don't cover him, they have a more senior analyst handle him." Zondra was curious. "You sound like you know the name?"

"Yeah. Ted, who has the cubicle beside me, keeps a close watch on Augusto. Ted and I will, from time to time, bat around ideas about what these nefarious types might be up to."

They both slipped into silence. Chuck went back to completing the crossword.

As he was looking down he mumbled. "From what Ted tells me, Augusto always seems to be one step ahead of the DEA, CIA and the Policia Federal. It doesn't make any statistical sense."

Zondra's head snapped up. "What did you just say about statistics?" She leaned across the table to hear Chuck's every word.

Chuck was still looking down at the crossword. "What I meant to say is someone is tipping Augusto off . I suspect someone in the DEA or the CIA."

Zondra was staring at the top of Chuck's head. Chuck mumbled, "What's a six letter word for 'double-cross?"

Zondra whispered, "Betray." Chuck thanked her and filled in the letters.

She then grabbed her phone and hunted for some photos. Finally, she found them. There were four pictures of the damn transmitter that was found in her boot. The transmitter had almost been her downfall. "Chuck, you're a tech guy. Have you seen one of these before?"

Chuck looked up from his crossword as Zondra passed her phone over to him. He studied the photos for a couple of minutes and then handed the phone back. "Yes, that's a standard miniature transmitter. It's used by all the Federal Agencies now."

Chuck then thumbed to one of the photos and enlarged it. "This is odd, if you look at the serial number SR6598-YGP, you see the last letter, the 'P', that means that this transmitter is a prototype."

Zondra got up and went around to the other side of the booth, to sit beside Chuck so they could both see the photo.

Chuck was very conscious of Zondra sitting so close to him. She smelled like flowers. "Ahh, I would say that this was manufactured in 2004. Also, this looks like it came directly from a DARPA lab, it's a prototype."

Chuck stopped talking and cocked his head to the right. Something was niggling at him, a piece of information that was relevant but just out of his grasp. He grabbed his phone and called up the Washington Post.

He smiled at Zondra, "Here it is, the director of the DARPA communications lab, a Thomas Shelby, was charged last week for selling communication equipment prototypes to the Cartels. According to the article, he committed suicide before they could arraign him."

Zondra grabbed Chuck's phone and looked at the picture and read the article.

She recognized the face, she'd seen Thomas Shelby before. It was three years ago when she was with the CAT squad. It suddenly came to her. She'd seen Shelby with Amy at a nightclub. At the time, she'd passed it off as another of Amy's conquests, just another one night stand.

Chuck finished his pie and watched Zondra's face. He saw a range of emotions flit across it.

Zondra knew that there was still a lot of work ahead to vindicate herself. She needed to set a trap for Amy and put the proper bait into the trap. She wondered if she should contact Sarah and share this information.

She turned towards Chuck and gave him a dazzling smile. "Chuck, you have a piece of pastry crust on the side of your mouth."

She reached up with her thumb and wiped the tiny flake of pie crust off his face. Zondra finally saw the man. She was grateful to him for finally giving her hope. She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

Chuck was surprised. "Ahh, what was that for?" The blush crept up from his neck to his cheeks. Chuck took a quick look around to see if any of the other people in the diner had noticed the kiss.

Her smile was warm. "That's a thank you. Trust me, you've helped me a great deal this evening. I won't forget it. I owe you."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** -

Thanks michaelfmx, for your editing and valued input. All mistakes are mine.

 **I see a lily on thy brow,**

 **With anguish moist and fever-dew,**

 **And on thy cheeks a fading rose**

 **Fast withereth too.**

 **-John Keats**

 **Chapter 3**

 **Burbank- Five Months Later**

 **Kimpton Hotel Wilshire, August 15, 2007 -Room 530- 2:30 pm**

Carina quickly zipped up the back of her green silk dress. As she did so, she looked down upon the man lying on top of the bed with a healthy degree of disgust.

Colonel Nathan Mattick, USAF, was attached to the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

When he wished to, he came across as a 'good ole boy' from Alabama. Other times he was the epitome of the Southern gentleman. He preferred it when people underestimated him.

The truth was Mattick had a razor sharp mind. He finished in the top ten of his graduating class at the Air Force Academy.

And he was a zealot.

A zealot is a person who takes religious-like passions and beliefs and then marries them to abstract political ideas. The zenith of this unholy marriage would be an individual who would incinerate half the planet to save the other half. Mattick, was such a man.

He had been an early recruit to the Fulcrum cause. He was a true believer.

It had been less than a week since the CIA had discovered Mattick was a member of Fulcrum. The CIA & DOD had moved quickly.

At this precise moment, he was handcuffed to the solid brass headboard. Carina had drugged him just as he thought he was going to get to second base with her.

Mattick started to slowly emerge from the 'twilight drug' she'd given him an hour ago.

Mattick's aide de camp, a burly second lieutenant, was waiting patiently out in the adjacent sitting area. The Lieutenant was also a recent recruit to Fulcrum, and Mattick's personal bodyguard.

Carina knew it was time to leave. Quickly. She'd just about used up all of her good luck.

She had what she wanted. The USB flash drive now had the files from Mattick's laptop. It had taken far longer than planned to break through the three layers of security and encryption.

One of the top CIA 'hackers' had talked to her through her earbud to assist her. They'd finally gotten through the final encryption layer five minutes ago.

She was on a joint mission with the CIA that had been put in place, quickly, a mere three days ago. Everything was happening on the fly, many risks were being taken to acquire information about, up until now, a very murky and secret cabal of disenchanted US intelligence operatives.

Mattick groaned. Shit! Time to leave, and not by the front door.

The wind grabbed at Carina as she went out onto the balcony. She stepped over the iron railing and carefully positioned herself for her jump across the emptiness.

There was a four foot gap to the next balcony. She looked down five stories to the street and cars below.

Mattick was now awake. "You bitch!"

This time there was a loud knock on the bedroom door.

Carina jumped and grabbed onto the bannister of the other balcony. She slid down the railing until her finger tips were gripping the balcony edge. She then quickly started a pendulum swinging motion. The timing was critical. It had to be just right. Carina let go and dropped down one floor to the next balcony.

She could hear angry voices above her.

The knock on the glass doors startled Mr. Albert Timberman, a retired accountant. Shocked though he was, he did the gentlemanly thing and opened the sliding door. Carina smiled at him, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and uttered a "Thank you, must run" as she rushed out into the hallway.

Mrs. Timberman came out of the bathroom and asked who had been knocking on their door?

Carina could no longer follow the escape plan. The car waiting for her downstairs at the main entrance wasn't an option anymore.

Mattick would've alerted his backup security team and of course Fulcrum. Soon this whole area would be flooded with his people.

Carina made it out of the Hotel through the kitchen. She saw two Fulcrum agents at one end of the alley and took off in the opposite direction. They saw her and followed with guns drawn. Carina's gun and cell phone were in her purse, which was still up in room 503. She grasped tightly onto the USB drive and ran for her life.

Carina made it to Wilshire Blvd via Orange St. and La Jolla Ave. She was running in her stocking feet and had a ten second lead on her pursuers.

As she ran across Wilshire she saw him. It was that tall, curly haired NSA analyst with the dark brown eyes, the good looking, geekie guy. What the hell was his name?

Chuckles, that's it! That was his name. Carina made a snap decision and rushed towards Chuck.

{}

* * *

Chuck Bartowski was spending a long weekend with his sister, Devon and Morgan back in Burbank. He had come home to talk to them about his imminent return. He was now counting the days. His contract with the NSA had about one month or to be precise forty days to go.

The NSA would, of course, make him sign even more documents making him swear to never ever talk about what he'd been doing for the last three years. Each document pointing out the stiff penalties for failure to keep his mouth shut.

That was okay with him. He was so ready for the next stage in his life to begin. He looked forward to shaking the dust from his sandals as he left Washington. He'd worked hard to be mediocre at his job with the NSA. They wouldn't have any interest in holding on to him.

The blur of someone running across the street caught his attention.

It was a woman, that was all the time he had …. before she crashed into him. They both fell down, all jumbled up, but the woman was like a panther, she was back on her feet in seconds and took off.

Two things struck Chuck forcibly, one was the scent of sandalwood, and the second was he could swear that the woman running away from him was Carina Miller. Seconds later, he was knocked down again by two big men in dark suits, who were running after the woman.

By the time Chuck helped an older man stand up and brush himself off, Carina and the two men were gone.

{}

* * *

Carina had given up five precious seconds of her lead to put the USB flash drive in Chuckle's pocket and grab his cell phone. She was confident that Chuckles would eventually figure out that the USB was from her and that the information was important and pass it on to the NSA.

A smile crossed her lips. She always put the mission first, she never failed. Whether she would be alive in twenty-four hours was, at the moment, a long shot.

Carina was increasing her lead, and thought that she might just get away. Her optimism was quickly dashed when a man, only twenty or so yards ahead of her, stepped out of a car and raised his gun at her.

Carina was running out of options. She raced down another alley, immediately to her left.

She made it about half way down when a black SUV screeched to a halt and blocked her path.

Carina grabbed Chuck's phone and used the emergency phone call feature to call Sarah walker.

The door on the van opened quickly with a man pointing a gun at her. Behind her, two more Fulcrum agents were closing the net. Carina had seconds left.

Carina finally heard Sarah's voice and spoke quickly. "Sarah, find Chuck Bartowski …he …"

The tranq dart hit her in the side of the neck. Her last thoughts were of her best friend Sarah.

 **Kimpton Hotel Wilshire, Main Entrance- 2:40 pm**

Sarah Walker was waiting in a black town car, positioned at the entrance, anxiously waiting for Carina. She had two other CIA Agents with her. Something was wrong. She felt it in her bones. Her best friend was in trouble.

The two silver SUV's that pulled up to the front entrance of the Wilshire held six men. They got out of the SUV quickly and paired up. They were well rehearsed, professional, and Sarah noticed they were carrying some serious hardware.

She caught sight of one man carrying an Uzi inside his jacket, the other one was hiding a sawed off Remington pump action on the inside of his trench coat.

Sarah had to make a quick decision. Should she go in and rescue Carina, or should she wait here and shoot it out when they brought Carina back to the SUV.

In her earbud, she received good news. One of the kitchen staff had seen a woman rush out of the back of the hotel. She was wearing a green dress. The CIA agent from a two man team in the hotel had gone to the kitchen. He showed the female sous-chef a picture of Carina. She confirmed it was Carina.

Two minutes later Sarah's phone rang. She managed to say "Carina, where are you?" Carina's response was "Sarah, find Chuck Bartowski .. he ..." then nothing but the sounds of scraping and finally a large cracking sound and finally silence.

Sarah's face was a mask, some called it her 'cold face'. Genghis Khan would've been proud to have her as one of his warriors. The other agents in the car saw a composed, no nonsense, and very serious woman. She out ranked them. There were whispered rumours about Agent Sarah Walker, what she did, who she did it to and who she reported to. She was one of Graham's 'enforcer'.

Inwardly, Sarah was shocked and worried. She knew with every fiber of her being that Carina had been captured. Please, God don't let her be dead. Sarah heard the clock ticking inside her head.

If they didn't rescue Carina in the next five hours ….well …. it might be a blessing if her best friend, in the whole world, was indeed dead.

She pivoted in her seat. "Find out who Chuck Bartowski is? Tell me where I can find him … NOW!"

 **Echo Park –Burbank, Near Ellie and Devon's –Thirty Minutes Later**

Chuck was not a happy man. His new iPhone was missing. The woman, who most probably was Carina Miller, must have grabbed it when she crashed into him … she stole it. Why would she do that? Hell, he would've loaned it to her if she'd asked? Why were the two men chasing her? Why was she running? Where did they all go? Was Carina in danger?

Chuck was thinking to himself that maybe he should call the NSA, the DEA, or maybe the Police and report what he'd seen. He decided that as soon as he got back to Ellie's he would call the NSA. Just to make sure she was okay.

{}

* * *

Sarah Walker saw Chuck Bartowski approach the entrance to where his sister lived.

The CIA had moved quickly to find Chuck's address in Silver Spring and a Burbank address, not for him but for his sister Eleanor Bartowski. It took fifteen long minutes to find a supervisor at the NSA who would admit to knowing who Chuck was.

Finally, they confirmed that he was a contract employee and on holiday.

She now had a brief description and picture from the DMV. Fragmented information was still coming in about the man. Sarah had learned never to judge a book by its cover.

Chuck Bartowksi might be a saint or he might be a 'Fulcrum' sinner. She'd find out, one way or the other.

The plan was simple. Grab him, take him back to CIA field office at Ventura and Union and interrogate him, and unravel Carina's message. "Sarah, find Chuck Bartowksi ..he.." He's.. what? Damnit, why couldn't Carina have said more?

Sarah stepped out of the car and walked towards Chuck. The other two agents were across the street working to get behind him. She wanted him alive and unharmed, for now. Sarah put a sweet smile on her face, relaxed her posture, and said, "Chuck, is that you?" Her tone was warm and friendly.

Chuck Bartowski looked up and saw a beautiful blonde woman, tallish and graceful in her movements. The word that popped into his head was elegant. She was wearing a white sun dress with blue painted flowers on it. As he got closer to her, he saw the intense blue eyes.

Chuck noticed that the smile on the blonde's face hadn't quite made it to her blue eyes. For some strange reason that made him feel nervous.

He stopped in front of her. "I'm sorry, do we know each other?"

Sarah's smile disappeared. "I'm a friend of Carina Miller's."

The two agents came up quietly behind Chuck. His sixth sense, or the primal reaction of the prey when the predator is almost upon it, kicked into high gear. He turned his head slightly and asked, "What are you guy's doing?"

Sarah was conscious of time, she was worried about Carina. She needed the take down to go smoothly. No struggling, especially if Chuck was with Fulcrum. Carina's cryptic message kept playing in her head. "Find Chuck Bartowski ..he .." He's what? What is he? A good guy – a bad guy?

The rest happened very quickly. Smooth practiced movements, ballet like to someone watching. Sarah's right hand was a blur as she hit him just below the sternum. Sarah didn't want to kill him, her blow was measured, she just wanted to make sure he didn't struggle.

Chuck doubled over. The wind was knocked out of him. A black hood went over his head, he felt the wrenching of his arms behind his back and the zip-tying of his wrists. He was thrown into the back seat of what he thought was a large car.

He was terrified, and he was most definitely freaking out. He thought he might be sick but he fought back the bile rising in his throat. He didn't want to be sick while they had the hood over his head.

 **CIA Field Office- Near Ventura Blvd & Union Avenue, LA –One Hour Later**

Chuck was now sitting in what felt like a very sturdy wooden chair that was firmly secured to the floor. The black hood was still over his head.

They had cut the zip-ties off of his wrists, but that had only been a brief respite. They immediately secured his hands to the wooden arms and his legs were zip-tied to the legs of the chair. Chuck was barely holding it together.

He still felt like he was going to be sick. He finally heard sounds, a tapping sound, maybe a woman's heels on tiles. He feared it was the blonde woman coming into the room.

He heard a 'whap' sound like someone smacking a file onto a desk.

Then there was silence.

The only sound he could hear was his own breathing. He felt the bile rise in his throat again. Suddenly, the black hood was yanked off his head and the bright light made him blink several times. He was in a room he'd seen in countless spy movies.

His first thought was, _they don't really exist, do they?_

It was empty, except for a steel desk and the wooden chair bolted to the floor that he currently occupied. The walls were all painted a metallic grey. Two CCTV cameras were positioned in opposite corners, near the ceiling. A little red light was glowing on each one.

He looked down, the floor was tiled and there was a drain beside the chair. When he saw the drain, his fears ran away with him. He bent his head to the right and threw up.

The blonde woman sat there, silent and unmoving. Finally the silence was broken.

"How do you know Carina Miller?" was said in a cool, alto voice. Chuck blinked, he didn't know where he was or who the hell she was.

Chuck asked, "Where am I and who are you?" The blonde narrowed her eyes and Chuck tried to move farther away from her. He really didn't want her to hit him again.

Sarah knew Carina was running out of time. The clock was ticking down. The longer Fulcrum had her, the more they'd hurt her. Hurt her in ways she might never recover from.

"I'm Agent Sarah Walker, with the CIA. Sarah flashed her 'cred' pack with her badge and picture. She held it up for a five count to make sure he could see the badge and the photo clearly.

"You are in a secure facility, and we want to know how you know Carina Miller?" Chuck had signed countless documents with the NSA. They'd throw his ass in Fed Max if he ever divulged what he was doing and what he'd done, while working for them.

Chuck took a second for his voice to work. "Uhh, I'm not supposed to talk to people outside of the NSA. Can you get someone from the NSA who I know, to say it's okay to talk with you?"

Sarah was losing patience. If Chuck was a Fulcrum agent he would prevaricate, he would stall to buy time. This would allow Fulcrum more time to fully interrogate Carina.

She now had several pages of information on Charles Irving Bartowski.

He was highly intelligent. But he was a cheater, he was kicked out of Stanford in his final year. He was a 'run of the mill' hacker, who'd been caught by the FBI. He'd avoided punishment by agreeing to work for the NSA. Bartowski was viewed by the NSA as being average at his job. His three year contract with the NSA had about another month to run.

Before her two fellow CIA agents tied Chuck to the chair, they had patted him down.

They found a USB flash drive and a small gold key chain. Her tech people were analysing the USB. They'd get back to her shortly.

It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that Barrowski had been recruited by Fulcrum, it wouldn't take much for a man with so little integrity to fall into their ranks.

Sarah sighed to herself. _Carina, what did your message mean?_ _And where the hell did they take you?_

Sarah softened her tone. Charles or 'Chuck', his preferred nickname, might respond to a softer approach. "Chuck, Carina Miller was kidnapped just off of Wilshire Blvd." She looked at her watch. "Less than two hours ago by Fulcrum."

Chuck's face registered concern but he wasn't as surprised as he should've been with that particular piece of news. Sarah asked, "Why aren't you surprised she was kidnapped?"

Chuck gulped. "Because she was being chased by two large Neanderthals."

Sarah blinked. _Is he trying to be funny? Is he some sort of smart ass?_ "Why didn't you report her being kidnapped?"

Chuck tugged on one of his arm restraints. He hated to be trussed up like this. "Because I lost sight of Carina and the men chasing her, and I think she took my phone from me. I was going to phone the NSA when I got back to my sister's.

"That's when you kidnapped me. Isn't there a thing called _Habeas Corpus_? You just can't grab someone off the street."

Sarah's voice was calm. "We are treating you as a terrorist suspect and possible traitor. You have little, if any rights, at the moment."

Chuck's face went ashen. "What! I'm not a traitor!….Listen, I know I'm only a contract employee but aren't we on the same side?"

Sarah was trying to get the measure of this man. "Carina called us from a phone, your phone, which we found smashed in an alley. The message she left was. _'Find Chuck Bartowski … He …._

"What did she mean? What are you Chuck? Who do you really work for?"

Chuck decided that the CIA was a federal agency and he'd better start talking. He wasn't good with pain.

Sarah noticed how he kept looking down at the drain beside the chair. When he did, the color drained from his face.

Chuck quickly told Sarah Walker how he knew Carina Miller. He didn't however, tell her about the time Carina came to his office. He didn't think that was relevant. Besides, this blonde 'shield maiden' probably wouldn't believe it actually happened.

When he finished talking about Carina, Sarah Walker closed her eyes tightly. She had the beginnings of a mild headache. She couldn't get a clear read on this man. The story he told might be true. He'd also mentioned John Casey's name.

She knew about Casey's reputation, 'cold school killer'. He'd been doing what she was now doing, only for a lot longer.

The rumor was- Casey had given up everything, his past life, his family, literally everything, in order to serve his country. She knew how to get Casey's private number. She grabbed her phone and called Director Graham, "Sir, it's Agent Walker, I need John Casey to call me at once".

Graham said he would take care of it.

The door opened suddenly, a very young female analyst came rushing in with a laptop. Chuck picked up bits of the whispered conversation.

"CCTV footage …. corner ….. Wilshire & La Jolla avenue ….. collision ….USB flash drive …."

The analyst whispered in Sarah's ear about the USB they found on Chuck. She showed Sarah video footage from a CCTV camera on her laptop. Sarah thanked the analyst, looked up at Chuck twice.

Her eyes were frosty cold now. Sarah dismissed the analyst from the room. She walked to the door and bolted it shut from the inside. She then pressed a button and the red light on the two CCTV cameras blinked off.

She needed to be alone with Chuck Bartowski.

 _ **A/N-** I did warn you this would end in a cliff hanger. Rejoice, the next chapter will be posted in 72 hours. Also, a tip of the hat to James Lee Burke for the little paragraph on what a zealot is._


	4. Chapter 4

**I met a lady in the meads,**

 **Full beautiful—a faery's child,**

 **Her hair was long, her foot was light,**

 **And her eyes were wild**

-John Keats

 **Chapter 4**

Sarah stared at Chuck for the longest time. Her blue eyes were drained of any warmth. She was deciding about what would happen next.

The translucent blue color of Sarah's eyes reminded Chuck of the blue you sometimes see when you see pictures of icebergs up close.

She pivoted the laptop around so Chuck could see the screen and stabbed at the play button with her finger. Chuck then relived, through the video footage, his earlier collision with Carina. It was all over in four or five seconds. Sarah replayed it. Chuck leaned forward to see what was happening.

The only thing he picked out was Carina rolling over top of him quickly, rising up, with cat like reflexes and sprinting away. He did see his cell phone in her hand.

Sarah came around the desk and perched on the edge and looked down at Chuck. "Why do you have detailed information about Fulcrum in your possession? We found the USB flash drive in your pocket and a small gold key chain, with a "C" on it. Is the key chain yours?"

Chuck's mouth was bone dry. "Can I have some water?" Sarah gave him a ghost of a smile. "You mean, ' _May I have some water_?' Chuck reluctantly repeated the phrase using _may I_.

Sarah spat back, "No you may not, not until you tell me who the hell you really are? How long have you've been working for Fulcrum?"

Sarah's next question was laced with malice. "Tell me why you knocked Carina down in the street, were you trying to intercept her and slow her down so your Fulcrum buddies could catch up with her?"

Chuck withered under her stare. "That's not .. that's not … what happened. She ran into me. She must have planted the USB on me and then .. she .. she took my phone. I have no idea who Fulcrum is."

Chuck was freaking out, he rambled when this happened. "I know what a fulcrum is … it's from the Latin, fulcire. Ahh, it.. means support." Chuck kept looking into those cold blue eyes. "Ahhh ….Archimedes once said that he could lift the world with a lever if he had a fulcrum."

Sarah stared at him in disbelief. Inside her head she was counting down the elapsed time since Carina had disappeared. Time was running out for her best friend and …. and this man was making wise-assed comments, about some Greek who died thousands of years ago.

Sarah reached down and lifted the hem of her skirt.

Chuck looked away when she did this. He wasn't the kind of man who stared down women's cleavage or tried to peek under their skirts. When he turned his head back, Sarah Walker was holding a knife in her right hand.

She made sure Chuck saw the knife clearly, making sure he caught the glint of the edge in the light. Chuck had hung around Devon long enough at the hospital to know the edge of the knife was surgically sharp.

Sarah put the knife down on the desk beside her. She sat back. "Chuck, my friend Carina is running out of time. No more games, no more deflecting, enough with the smart ass comments, no more stalling."

Sarah was losing her patience with him. "Start talking, NOW!"

Chuck was horrified with what he thought she was implying. He looked down at the drain again, and then at the knife sitting on the desk. He felt like he'd been immersed in a Kafka like world he would never, ever emerge from.

He now knew, deep in his soul, what the phrase 'to lose hope' meant.

Chuck had been sitting in the wooden chair for almost forty minutes. He was a tall man, almost 6' 3". His blood had slowly pooled in his immobilized legs. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. His racing fears gave his body that final little push.

The darkness started at the periphery of his vision. At first it was a ribbon of darkness at the edges. The darkness moved quickly from the edge, until there was just a single point of light … and then .. darkness.

{o}

Sarah saw the utter despair in Chuck's brown eyes. Her implied threat had hit home. And then, in two or three heartbeats, she saw him faint. Sarah reached over with her right thumb and pushed back on Chuck's left eyelid.

He was really out of it. He was unconscious. Sarah shook her head, unbelievable! How could this tall lanky man be an agent?

She quickly walked out of the room and got a glass of water. As she returned to the room, she was certain of one thing, Chuck Bartowski was not trained, he was not of her world. She had a growing sense in her gut that Chuck was one of the good guys.

She still needed to make sure. Because if she was wrong about Chuck Bartowski, then Carina's life was forfeit.

Carina was, at this precise moment, being interrogated by Fulcrum, and Sarah was sure she wouldn't be fainting. Fulcrum was never gentle with those who fell into their hands.

{o}

Chuck felt the cold water hit him like an electric shock. He rose quickly, brutally, to consciousness. He blinked several times and saw, standing before him, the blonde 'shield maiden', with an empty glass in her right hand.

Sarah's phone, which was sitting on the desk, started to vibrate. She snatched at it, pressed talk and snarled into the phone. "What!"

It was John Casey. She raced out of the room so she could talk with him.

{o}

Chuck gave in to the terror he felt. He struggled to get free from his restraints. He thrashed back and forth like a hooked Marlin. After three or four minutes, he finally stopped squirming and wriggling against the hard plastic zip-ties. His efforts had been useless. His wrists and ankles were scraped raw and were bleeding.

The door opened.

Sarah Walker hurried back into the room. She didn't spare him a glance.

She sat down at the desk. Grabbed the laptop and reran the footage of Carina and Chuck colliding. This time she ran the video in super slow motion. She was now looking for something specific. The second time watching the video, she finally saw it.

Carina had clearly initiated the collision and had planted the USB on Chuck. Sarah had been well trained by her dad as a pickpocket. What a pickpocket could take from you, they could plant on you. It was hard to see Carina's 'leger de main', unless you knew what to look for.

Sarah walked around the desk and looked at him. Chuck didn't want to look at her anymore, he didn't want to see those hard cold blue eyes. He looked away from her. Sarah picked up the knife. Chuck closed his eyes, expecting the worst.

Instead, Sarah bent down and cut the zip-ties from his ankles and then, with two precise movements, cut the zip-ties on his wrists. The knife quickly vanished from sight.

Sarah looked at him as he rubbed his wrist, she could see he'd been struggling to get free from the restraints.

She now carefully modulated her tone. She needed to put him at ease. "John Casey vouched for you. His exact words were, 'He's as straight as a die'. He ordered me to let you go."

Chuck looked at her, still not quite believing what she'd just said. He hesitantly asked, "I'm ..I'm .. free to go?"

Sarah nodded yes. "Sorry, about the….. confusion …all this." She waved her hand around the room "… it was all a misunderstanding."

Chuck stood up slowly, he was rubbing his raw and bleeding left wrist with his right hand.

He was taller than Sarah Walker. She had to look up at him. Chuck coughed, "A misunderstanding in my mind is .. I don't know .. I say I'll meet you for dinner at 6pm and you think I said .. 7pm. That to me is a misunderstanding. I'm pretty sure what went on here … well it goes way beyond a misunderstanding."

Chuck was rubbing his other wrist. He looked at her. "You really were going to hurt me, weren't you?"

Sarah sighed. "No, Chuck, I .. I was only trying to .. to scare you. I needed to make absolutely sure you weren't with Fulcrum."

When she looked directly into his eyes she could see he wasn't buying her explanation.

Chuck's bitter laugh echoed in the room. "I don't know who Fulcrum is! How can I possibly convince you or anyone else of something that was never true in the first place?"

Chuck looked once again into those blue eyes. There was no rancor in his tone. "Why didn't you trust what I was saying? Why didn't you trust me?"

Sarah couldn't turn away from those dark brown eyes, they held her captive. She could see how upset Chuck was. Sarah thought of several things to say but finally said, "Real trust is in short supply in my line of work. But I am sorry for … well … for our misunderstanding."

She continued, "I believe… I believe all of it. And I believe you Chuck.

"Carina caused the collision. She planted the USB and grabbed your phone." A wave of fatigue came over Sarah. She felt tired and sat back on the edge of the desk. "We found her purse, gun and phone back at the hotel. She obviously needed to leave the room in a hurry."

Chuck longed with all of his being to get back out onto the street. To see the blue sky, breathe unfiltered, slightly smoggy LA air. He was desperate to go back home and take a shower.

{o}

Sarah walked down the hall next to Chuck. She stopped at the entrance to the command and control room.

Chuck looked into the room. It was full of analysts, agents and IT support. There were at least fifteen people in the room. All of them looking for Carina Miller. There was a large digital display on the wall. It was showing the elapsed time since Carina had been captured.

Sarah paused for a moment. Casey had said one final thing to her during their phone conversation.

She stole a glance toward Chuck. The color was slowly coming back into his face. She cleared her throat. "Major Casey said to let you help. He said you sometimes had these leaps of intuition, or did he say inspiration? He also said you knew your way around computers." She hesitated. "So, I'm asking for your help."

Chuck forced himself to look at her. Her eyes now reflected her worry and concern for Carina. Maybe there was a spark of humanity in the 'shield maiden' after all.

He really wanted to go home. One more nanosecond in this place was almost too much to endure.

But he remembered Carina coming to his office. He didn't like to think of her being 'interrogated'.

So he replied, "Help you, no.…but I will help Carina, what do you want me to do?"

Sarah felt his rebuke. Her voice was full of melancholy, "I'm not sure … for now shadow me. Speak up if you have any ideas. .. I mean it …. we need to find her."

For the next twenty minutes he was Sarah Walker's shadow. He saw how competent Sarah was. He watched and listened and saw her ask questions, check leads and issue commands. The CIA and DEA were desperately looking for their lost agent.

Sarah went to one of the computer consoles and asked the person about drones or satellite coverage they could use.

The analyst's fingers flew over the key board, she was good. "Ma'am, we now have two satellites with real time coverage. But for the period from 1400 to 1530 hours, we're drawing a blank. None of our assets were deployed for that area, during that period of time."

There were three fires burning in the mountains north of LA.

Chuck knew this from the news. He spoke up. "Does NESDIS (National Environmental Satellite, Data and Information Service) have satellites up tracking the weather and the fires, for that time period?"

The woman analyst named Shirley wrinkled her nose when Chuck leaned over her shoulder to get a better look at her console. His face and the collar of his shirt were damp from where Sarah had thrown the glass of water at him to wake him up. Tiny specks of vomit were still on his right sleeve, and there was a sour smell emanating from him. A combination of sweat and fear had formed a pungent musk.

The analyst looked at Sarah for approval. Sarah snapped, "For God's sake do it …do what he asked!"

Shirley checked and confirmed that, yes, there were two NESDIS satellites in place for the time period in question. One was geostationary and the other one was a low orbit satellite whose orbit and times match the critical time periods. The low orbit satellite would be back in range soon.

Chuck looked down at Shirley. "Break into the satellites and get their footage. Maybe we'll have coverage for the Wilshire Blvd area and we can see where they took Carina."

Shirley didn't know how to break into a satellite. She picked up the phone and called NESDIS to get the access protocols. Shirley shook her head when she got the canned message. "Agent Walker, it's 2030 hours in Washington. They've all gone home.

"It'll take me a couple of hours to find someone and get the protocols. Maybe someone at Langley can hack into the satellite. I've never done this before."

Sarah had a bad feeling. Her stomach was tied up in knots. Time was running out, Carina didn't have two more hours.

{o}

Chuck hesitated to speak up. For the last three years he had successfully hidden his light under a bushel. They rated him 'average' across the board. He didn't want to draw attention to himself.

However, his thoughts kept wandering back to Carina Miller. He knew Fulcrum was hurting her. He could see the worry clearly reflected in Agent Walker's face.

He sighed and dropped his head.

In his last year at Stanford, he'd discovered the dark web, before people even knew it existed. That was the place where the elite hackers met. He thought there were maybe less than thirty of them who had access to this very special site.

The hackers bartered their code with each other. The idea was simple and time honored, you gave up something valuable to get something just as valuable. You never welched or cheated on a barter, if you did, the others would dismiss you and then ostracize you.

Chuck had invented code that masked your IP address, made it almost impossible to track you. He traded the IP masking code with a hacker called 'Tiberius'. Tiberius knew how to get into low security satellites. They had traded for each other's code.

Chuck, over the years, had hacked into NESDIS satellites many times. At first, just because he could. Later, because he was fascinated by viewing the world from hundreds or thousands of miles above the earth.

NESDIS satellites were easy pickings for Chuck Bartowski.

{o}

He cleared his throat. "I think I can get into it, I mean if you want me to." Sarah hesitated for two or three seconds, she then touched Shirley on the shoulder to get her to move out of her seat. Shirley gave Chuck a skeptical look as he brushed past her.

Chuck's fingers were a blur. He first had to get some special code from a secure web site. He then spent five minutes getting past the two firewalls. His first victim was the geosynchronous satellite, sitting 26,200 miles above the earth. He then waited ten minutes until the low orbit satellite came back into view and broke into its data files.

Next, he set up the downloads for today's video and data between the timestamp of 1400 hours to 1600 hours, local time.

The data streamed into Shirley's console.

Chuck then lined up the two satellites' data and video feeds. He used another chunk of his special code he'd grabbed from his secure site, to align and merge the feeds chronologically. He was trying to get the best images and video.

This took another ten minutes.

He then fast forwarded to the time stamp …. 1430 hours.

He visibly relaxed when he found Wilshire Blvd and La Jolla Ave. He then zoomed in until it was as if they were hovering fifty feet above the ground. He skipped forward through the footage until he recognized himself.

{o}

They all watched silently, it was eerie, there was no sound on the video.

They saw Carina crash into Chuck, saw her running away from him, then veering suddenly left into the alley. They saw the SUV block the exit. Then they watched as Carina was 'tranqed' and dragged into the SUV.

Chuck zoomed the picture out to allow them to follow the SUV. He then fast forwarded through the video footage, shrinking a forty minute car journey into four minutes. Finally, they saw where Fulcrum had taken Carina. The Port of Los Angeles area. Chuck ran a GPS inquiry and got an address, 699 S La Paloma Ave, located on Mormon Island.

Sarah was so relieved and grateful that Chuck had found Carina that, without thinking, she put her hand on his back. For two, three heartbeats, she felt the warmth of his back on her hand and a tiny shock.

Chuck felt the warmth of her hand and revelled in her touch for a brief moment.

Then, he remembered and flinched, moving away from her touch like he'd been scalded.

Sarah, surprised by his actions, jerked her hand away. She nervously gave him a weak smile, agents lived in the land of black humor. "Too soon?" She joked half-heartedly.

Chuck stared at her in disbelief. For once, his sense of humor failed him completely.

She turned away from his confused stare.

Sarah was in unfamiliar territory. Her only thoughts at this moment should be about rescuing Carina. Instead she was struggling with embarrassment, over what had gone on before. She wanted to linger and talk with Chuck Bartowski. She wanted to touch him again.

She desperately wished she could merely wave her hand and make him forget about how she'd kidnapped him, how she'd put him in the interrogation room. Her shoulders sagged because that was a fairy tale. Fairy tales weren't real; all there is ...was the harsh reality of the here and now.

The moment passed, and Agent Sarah Walker was back.

She turned to the Station Chief and pointed at Chuck. "He's free to go after you get him to give you a full release, also get him to sign the nondisclosure document."

She turned to Chuck. There was a four second pause where they stood in front of each other.

She knew there was a lot she needed to say. She was sorry she didn't have time to try and repair the awful impression he must have of her. No time, Carina needed her. "Thank you for your help," was all she could manage to say.

Sarah Walker rushed out of the room, heading for the roof, where a helicopter would take her and an elite CIA HRT to go and get Carina Miller. Time was running out for her friend.

The Station Chief turned Chuck over to his assistant. "Take care of his paperwork and process him out."

While the dutiful assistant was getting the paperwork together, Chuck asked her if he could use the washroom. He took off his shirt and washed the right sleeve, which still smelled of vomit. He rinsed his mouth out and he grabbed a wad of paper towels and wiped under his arms and tried to get rid of the sweat and fear that still clung to his body.

He looked at his wrists, which were scrapped raw, and wondered how he would explain this to Ellie and Devon. He went back to a smaller conference room beside the command centre and waited. He was low priority compared to rescuing Carina, he understood that.

But he so desperately wanted to get away from this place.

Finally, after another hour had passed, the assistant came back with four different forms. He didn't even read them. He signed them quickly. As he put down the pen, he could hear the cheering echoing from the command centre.

He suspected good news, they'd rescued Carina.

Chuck looked across at the assistant. "Can I ask if Carina is okay. I'd like to know before I go…please."

The assistant went back into the command centre and came back ten minutes later. "Carina is going to be okay, they're calling it scrapes and bruises. She's going to be fine." Chuck thanked the assistant.

Her last official act was to give Chuck a small envelope with his things. Inside were his smashed iPhone, twenty dollars, his wallet and a small gold key chain with a small "C" at the end. He looked at the gold key chain, fingered it for a couple of seconds and handed it back to the assistant. "This isn't mine, it belongs to Agent Carina Miller, please give it back to her."

Once Chuck got out onto the street and found his bearings, he walked for a half hour, then grabbed a bus that took him very close to Echo Park. Ellie had told him this morning that dinner would be at 8pm. As he rode on the bus he kept replaying in his mind the events of the day. It had been unlike any day he'd ever experienced.

He needed to pull it together before he got back to Echo Park. It was all over … Just a simple misunderstanding, he sighed, sure…a little dose of interrogation 'lite', just a simple misunderstanding.

Ellie was changing from her scrubs in her bedroom when Chuck got back to the apartment. "Hi Ellie, I'm back. I'm going to grab a quick shower."

Ellie's voice echoed down the hall. "I was starting to worry about you Chuck, don't be too long. We'll be eating in forty minutes."

Chuck peeled off all of his clothes and contemplated burning them. Instead he threw them in the dirty laundry hamper.

The hot water and soap removed his sweat, tainted with fear and the dried blood from his wrists and legs. He stood stock still under the comforting stream of hot water. He was glad Carina had been rescued. He was glad he helped to find her. But he was now worried whether he'd deviated from his plan to be inconspicuous, to be average.

One month to go. Please God, let me be free of them all.

Unbidden, thoughts of Agent Sarah Walker kept coming back to him. She was possibly the scariest woman he'd ever met. And also, one of the most beautiful and captivating woman he'd ever met.

How could he be afraid of and attracted to the same person? It made no earthly sense to him.

 ** _A/N_** _\- Part 2 of this story starts in about a week. Still on track for twelve chapters._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N-** My continued thanks for the reviews and comments. I'm enjoying the 'speculations' on where we're headed with this story and the PMs. More of the plot will unfold but there are some twists and turns to come. Sincere thanks to michaelfmx for editing this story and his valued input..

 _ **I made a garland for her head,**_

 _ **And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;**_

 _ **She looked at me as she did love,**_

 _ **And made sweet moan.**_

-John Keats

 **Chapter 5**

 **Port of Los Angeles 19:45 – Same Day**

Sarah Walker and Carina Miller sat beside each other in the back of the ambulance. A command centre and cleanup crew were already at work, dealing with the aftermath of the rescue.

Sarah planned to ride with Carina to a private CIA clinic. A medical team was standing by waiting to splint her two broken fingers, set her broken nose and take x-rays and do an MRI.

Catrina's fat lip would heal on its own. The doctors and nurses who worked at the clinic were well paid for their services, they were all top notch in their field and carefully vetted to deal with field agents and their injuries.

Carina would receive a very thorough physical examination to make sure there were no internal injuries.

Sarah knew that the DEA would require Carina to stay out of the field for at least a month and see their hired 'shrink' to deal with any PTSD. Sarah doubted that would be a problem, since Carina had been through much worse.

She would spend the night with Carina beside her hospital bed. She'd asked Director Graham for permission to spend the next four days with her friend at an apartment provided by the DEA.

It would allow them both to decompress and complete their detailed reports. One for the DEA and one for the CIA.

After the adrenaline rush came the letdown and then the paperwork, reams and reams of it.

Sarah looked over her shoulder as the five body bags were brought out. Four Fulcrum agents and sadly one CIA HRT member. Another funeral she would have to attend.

There was one wounded Fulcrum agent who would pull through. Sarah and the CIA HRT team had not been in a merciful mood. The Fulcrum Agent was lucky to be alive.

Carina held her side where she was sure two of her ribs were broken. It hurt to breathe deeply.

She hissed through clenched teeth, "So, did you figure out my message? I was trying to say, _Find Chuck Bartowksi. He has the Fulcrum data."_

Sarah nodded. "We finally figured it out. It took a little bit of time to piece it together. John Casey vouched for Chuck."

Carina grimaced with pain. It made sense Casey would do that. Casey had been a little impressed with Chuckles standing up to the three of them at their meeting almost a year ago.

Sarah stared into the gathering darkness with unfocussed eyes. She now had some time to think about the tall lanky man with the captivating brown eyes. He'd made an indelible impression on her that she couldn't shake. Oh well, it was sure to fade in time.

Casey had been spot on. 'Chuck was as straight as a die'. She was sorry she hadn't figured that out right from the start.

Sarah turned to Carina. "The NSA guy, Chuck, he was amazing, he hacked into two satellites, broke through the firewall like it was gossamer. He was able to pinpoint where Fulcrum had taken you."

Sarah Walker had a certain look when she was turning her thoughts inward, especially when she was beating herself up.

She didn't often expend energy on regrets, what good would that do her as long as there was another mission coming down the pike. As long as she was in the life.

Carina was in pain and let a moan escape her lips. Still, she noticed that look on her friend's face. "Sarah, I know that look. What are you beating yourself up about, this time?"

Sarah sighed, "I don't think I handled Chuck very well." She thought about what had happened in the interrogation room. "At first, because your message was so cryptic, I didn't know if he was one of us, or one of them. It took a while to establish he was on the side of the angels."

Carina's tone was cautious. "Sarah, you didn't hurt my 'Nerd', did you? Tell me you left Chuckles whole and in one piece." Sarah smiled at her. "Yes, 'your Chuckles' is fine, I did have to scare him a little bit … to make sure he wasn't with Fulcrum."

Carina let out a groan. "He's probably never even heard of Fulcrum. Don't worry Sarah, once I'm mended, and I don't have racoon eyes from the bruising and swelling on my face, I'll pay him a visit and pour oil on any troubled waters."

Sarah shook her head. "I'm not so sure you'll able to do that as easily as you think. He isn't wired like you and I are. He … He's different. She looked across at Carina and shrugged her shoulders.

 **One Month Later**

 **September 24th, 2007-Washington –Navy Yard**

Chuck looked around the Human Resource office. He'd just signed the final form and handed it over to the overly officious woman with the red hair and the overdone eye makeup. Daphne took his ID badge from him.

It was the final item on her two page checklist. Chuck reviewed the checklist and signed his name beside hers.

His three years of servitude were finally over. Freedom!

He now had no association, obligation or relationship with the NSA. Thank you God!

He was ecstatic, he'd done it. Yes! Chuck felt like he was getting out of jail. If he never saw the old redbrick building again, he wouldn't shed too many tears.

The contract he'd signed with the NSA made it clear that if he honored the terms of the agreement, he would have no criminal record. And the big plus, the NSA would provide him with a positive job reference through a shell company called Attica Information Systems.

He'd already said goodbye to all the folks he'd worked with. He would miss three or four people that he'd grown to like. They'd exchanged cell numbers and shaken hands. Everyone had asked him what was next. His standard response had been, "I'm heading back to LA and have some downtime."

One of the people he would try to keep in touch with was Jonathan Swinson, the head of FININT, financial intelligence for the NSA. Jonathan was an interesting man, he was a former accounting partner at KPMG.

The NSA had reached out to him after 9/11 because of his expertise in forensic accounting and his deep knowledge of banking systems across the world.

Jonathan took a large pay cut to leave the private sector. Chuck suspected that Jonathan had lost some friends on 9/11.

Over the last year, Chuck had sent Jonathan a couple of emails on some data he'd seen as an analyst. Jonathan clearly remembered Chuck from their meeting at Ft. Mead. Chuck smiled because it was the one and only time he'd ever been to Ft. Mead, or as the analysts referred to it, 'the mother ship'.

Jonathan and Chuck had hit it off right away. They met for lunch whenever Jonathan was over at the Navy Yard for a meeting. He'd been to Jonathan's house twice to talk about science fiction with him and play some chess and Go. Chuck had learned a lot from Jonathan about how the bad guys moved money around.

 **{o}**

Daphne stood up and shook Chuck's hand and wished him well. "So, Chuck … what's next for you?"

Chuck had talked to Daphne exactly twice in three years, once when he started and now as he was being processed out. He gave her his polite smile and trotted out his standard bland reply. "I'm headed back home to Burbank. I'll have some downtime." He then shrugged his shoulders.

Daphne was not one of the handful of people he would keep in touch with.

 **FT. Mead, MD – Same Day and Time- Office of Brigadier General D. Beckman**

Major John Casey finished briefing the General on his latest mission. A training camp in Somalia for ISIS was now ash and rubble. Casey had guided two Hellfire missiles into the center of the camp with a laser attached to his Barret's (M107A1) rifle. He'd spent two long hot days getting into the ideal position and then waited for the leaders to gather.

He was prepared to be dismissed, the General was a busy woman.

Instead of dismissing him, Diane Beckman reached for a blue personnel file. Casey looked down and groaned inwardly.

The name on the file was Charles Irving Bartowski. Casey couldn't believe it, what were the odds? The General had over 30,000 employees working for her and like magic, Bartowski's name pops up.

"Major, you're aware of the Colonel Nathan Mattick incident that took place last month?" Casey nodded.

He knew from scuttlebutt that Mattick was a traitor. Fulcrum had killed him and his aide de camp, so they couldn't be interrogated by Homeland Security.

"Good. Apparently, one of my contract employees was involved. I have in front of me glowing comments from DEA Agent Miller and Agent Walker from the CIA.

"In each case, the respective Director of each agency has added their handwritten endorsements and thanks to me and Mr. Bartowski in the report."

General Beckman flipped through the reports to the part she wanted to read. "Mr. Bartowski hacked into two NESDIS satellite in under five minutes, downloaded the files and pinpointed where Fulcrum had taken Agent Miller."

She looked up at Casey. "The DEA and the CIA have both made requests for Mr. Bartowski to be seconded, so he can work with them.

"And get this, both agencies note they will handsomely compensate the NSA for Mr. Bartowski services. Did you know about any of this?"

Casey grunted. "Not all the details Ma'am. Agent Walker called me last month and asked me to confirm Bartowski was one of the good guys and not a Fulcrum Agent. I believe it was in connection with Agent Miller being captured by Fulcrum. I told Agent Walker he wasn't a traitor, to let him go and he might be able to help. That was the extent of my involvement."

Beckman narrowed her eyes. "And how is it you were able to personally vouch for Mr. Bartowski? Have you worked with him before? Please explain."

Casey took a deep breath. Bartowski was like an albatross hanging around his neck.

He sat at attention and told the General, how he'd met and recruited him through an FBI sting operation. He then told her the story about the Emilio Fuertes incident.

He shared how Bartowski had made the correct call about Fuertes perpetrating a ruse on the NSA.

After he finished telling his story, Beckman grabbed Bartowski's file. She had seen these reports for the first time this morning. She remembered something about today's date. Then she saw it. Shit!

She hit a button on her phone console. "Lieutenant Smythe, call HR at the Navy Yard at once and make contact with Charles Bartowski. Tell him I'm sending Major Casey with a car to pick him up, I would like to meet with him. Tell him to please wait."

She looked across at Casey. "Did you know today is his last day? Go over there and bring him back"

General Beckman looked up at Casey. "I'll be damned if I'll let the CIA or the DEA poach one of my elite hackers and analyst from me."

Casey almost said 'What?' in the General's presence, since when was Bartowski an elite hacker? The last time Casey checked up on Bartowski, three months ago, he'd been told by Bartwoski's supervisors that they rated him as average? Not a keeper.

 **Washington -Navy Yard –Monday September 24th, 2007-Chuck's Last Day at the NSA**

Chuck was just about to get up and leave Daphne's office and slowly make his way to the airport. He had a cheque for $2,125 in his pocket. The money represented his entire net worth, apart from some things back in Burbank. His Tron poster and some collectables he'd purchased at Comic Con.

Yesterday he'd closed out his bank account in preparation for relocating to Burbank. Last week he'd sent two large suitcases with all his belongings back home to Burbank.

Daphne picked up the phone as Chuck was heading for the door. He looked back and noticed her sit up straight in the chair.

Daphne's one thought was,. 'My God, General Beckman's office was calling her'.

Chuck was turning the door knob when he heard, "Chuck, there's a phone call for you." She then put her hand over the phone and mouthed, "Its General Beckman's office calling … for you!"

Chuck reluctantly took the phone from her. "Hello?"

Lieutenant Smythe quickly explained that the General wanted to see him immediately and that Major John Casey would pick him up in forty minutes. Smythe's concluding words were. "The General's orders are for you to wait for Major Casey."

Everybody reacts to words on two levels, consciously and subconsciously. Words become hardwired into our mind and soul. Words can give us great pleasure, like the first time someone other than our parents tell us "I love you."

Sometimes words can be like little landmines, they can trigger small explosions in our brain.

Lieutenant Smythe had no idea how Chuck would react to his words. "The General's orders are for you to wait for Major Casey."

General Beckman hadn't specifically said that, but to Lieutenant Smythe everything the General said to him was a de facto order. Therefore, it must be an order for the recipient ….Mr. Charles Bartwoski.

Chuck handed the phone back to Daphne and said a hurried, "goodbye". He went downstairs and waited in the lobby. He was unsettled, for some reason he didn't fully fathom, he started to get angry.

He got up and paced back and forth in the lobby. He kept playing over, again and again in his mind the Lieutenant telling him he was 'ordered to wait'.

He didn't work for these people anymore. He wasn't in the Army or Air Force. How dare General what's her name order him to wait?

Then his suspicious side started asking questions. Why do they want to see me? Why now? Did I do something wrong?

The incident in Burbank with the blonde CIA Agent … Sarah, had stayed with him and made him just a little bit paranoid. He clearly remembered how, in the blink of an eye, his whole day in Burbank had changed. One minute a blue sky, not a care in the world, and then Carina came crashing back into his world and, God help him, the blonde 'shield maiden', Sarah.

Chuck's nervousness increased.

His mind jumped to all those conspiracy movies he'd watched over the years. He decided he wasn't going to wait for John Casey. He really didn't want to see General Becker or Beagle, whatever. He was done with the NSA and he was done with Washington.

He fingered the one way Jet Blue ticket that would take him back to Burbank. He'd managed to get an online special deal. The fare had only cost him $199. He was looking forward to going back home. But he also knew that if he ducked the meeting with General whats her name that wouldn't be the end of it. No, not a chance.

Chuck had a sinking feeling in his stomach that Casey wouldn't just let him leave. Geez, why won't they just leave me alone and let me go home? He'd honored his side of the agreement with them. Why couldn't they do the same?

Chuck got up, walking back and forth across the lobby at an ever increasing rate, trying to decide what to do. Then he stopped dead in his tracks and said, "To hell with it." And then he left the building.

 **{o}**

He hurried out the main gate with his small carryon bag and caught the first bus he saw, the M street bus heading east across the Anacostia River.

He decided he would find a different way home. It might take a little longer. But he needed some time alone. A tiny voice inside of him counselled caution.

Chuck suspected that when Casey found out he had not waited, his next step would be to call his cell phone. Chuck decided he wouldn't answer. Casey would then track his cell phone and get his exact location.

Chuck grabbed his phone and pulled out the SIM card and made sure the GPS was disabled.

He knew Casey would quickly find out about the JetBlue flight to Burbank. The flight for Burbank didn't leave for another six hours. He was hoping that Casey would wait for him at the airport.

Chuck estimated he had five or six hours to get out of 'Dodge'. After that time Casey would really start looking for him. Chuck toyed with the idea that the NSA would just let him go, after all, he really was just a small cog.

Chuck sadly shook his head and mumbled to himself, 'don't be so naïve'. They'll come looking for me. Shit!

Over the last three years, Chuck had soaked up an awful lot of information on how the NSA tracked people. He knew that increasingly it was becoming more and more difficult for an ordinary citizen to actually 'go off the grid', that is unless you had one or more false identities.

Jonathan had told Chuck that a cashless society served the intelligence communities very well, made it easy to track you. He was aware of the enormous resources that could be brought to bear to locate, monitor and retrieve information on an individual's activities and movements.

He also knew the NSA had a country and a world to watch; he was still a small fish, in the grand scheme of things. And because he wasn't a wanted 'bad guy', he hoped the search would be perfunctory, a few analysts just going through the motions.

Even when the NSA started looking for him, they'd assume he would be easy to find.

If Casey and the NSA really started to look for him in earnest, well then they would pick up his trail. He just had to figure out how to keep two or three steps ahead of Casey.

Chuck knew he would eventually have to call Casey or General what's her name. But not until he had time to think about what the hell was going on.

 **{o}**

Chuck got off the M street bus after it crossed the Anacostia River. He went immediately into an alley way, then through the backdoor of a breakfast place. He walked to the front, sat down, ordered a muffin and coffee. As he sipped his coffee he checked out where the CCTV cameras were situated.

Finally, he saw what looked like a blind spot. He put ten dollars beside his empty coffee cup and left.

Using the blind spot he went into an Army Surplus store. He bought a light windbreaker, a ball cap and a small backpack. He threw the carryon into a dumpster.

Keeping his head down, he walked amongst a crowd of people and headed for an ACE Cash Express Office. After he had cash in hand (less their usurious 3% commission) he would head over to the Western Union Office five blocks away.

Chuck mumbled a silent thank you to Jonathan Swinson, the money guru. He knew several ways to move his money around to different places, legally, and still keep a low profile. He needed to purchase two or three pay as you go cell phones. Then find an internet café and make contact with Ellie.

He needed to prepare Ellie for what might be ahead for her and Devon. He wouldn't let Morgan in on what he was doing. His little buddy would easily cave if Casey or any other NSA agents started to question him.

 **Next Day**

 **Springfield VA, DEA Headquarters – September 25, 2007**

Bureaucracies, even bloated ones with tens of thousands of employees, like the DEA, CIA and NSA, are still susceptible and subject to the _'perception of scarcity'._

In essence, if two people want the same thing at the same time, then it becomes more valuable. If three people want the same thing, the price goes up. If large Washington egos are added to the mix, the price can really go up.

The fact that the DEA wanted to 'borrow' Charles Bartowski to go and work with them made Chuck much more valuable to the NSA.

Once the CIA found out that two lead agencies were looking to recruit him, and based on one of their own agents glowing comments (none other than the esteemed Sarah Walker), they also wanted Charles Bartowski for themselves.

 **{o}**

The Director of the DEA, Hortense Williams, knew General Diane Beckman, their social circles overlapped. They competed for budget dollars up on the hill and for talent. Underneath the competition was a grudging respect, one for the other.

Hortense had not been pleased when her request to borrow one of Diane's IT specialists and hackers had been rebuffed.

Through discreet channels, she found out that Charles Bartowski no longer worked for the NSA. That's why Agent Carina Miller was sitting across from her at this precise moment.

"Agent Miller, you are looking very well. It's good to have you back in the lineup." She glanced at Dr. Raynor's report, he'd cleared Carina to go back into the field. "I would like you to find …." She glanced down at the name, "Charles Bartowksi, and get him to come and work for us. He's a free agent now and I want him on our team."

She glanced at one of her best field agents and knew that Bartowksi's skills had been critical in saving Carina's life.

Carina nodded to the Director. "I know just where to start, Ma'am. I'll have him in your office in less than a week." Carina left the Director's office smiling, she'd love having Chuckles work here at the DEA.

Carina reached into the pocket of her brown leather jacket and fingered the small gold key chain. When the CIA handed the key chain back to her she was not pleased. Chuckles had returned it to her and sent her a not so subtle and unspoken message. _'Carina_ , _you set me up and unleashed your friend Sarah on me'._

She had some fences to mend with Chuckles if she was going to get him to work at the DEA. Carina was confident that if she unleashed all of her charm on him, he would succumb. The vast majority of heterosexual men were hardwired the same way. All you had to do was press the right buttons.

She was already formulating plans for him to be her chief analyst and 'tech' guy.

 **{o}**

 **Washington D.C – Same Day 19:30 – 2660 Connecticut Ave NW**

The Alaska Airlines flight from LAX to Ronald Reagan had been bumpy.

Turbulence over the Mississippi had some of her fellow passengers reaching for the special little white bags in the seat pouch in front of them. Sarah had been happy to get on the ground and grabbed a cab to her apartment.

She dropped her keys in the ceramic bowl and left her carry on sitting in the hallway. The apartment was spotless and she was sure there wasn't a speck of dust to be found. She stood in front of the fridge and looked in. There was nothing except the box of Arm & Hamer baking soda.

Sarah knew she needed to get out of this vapid apartment or she just might scream.

She pivoted on her heels, grabbed the keys to the Porsche and headed for a Bistro she liked.

 **{o}**

The owner recognized the tall beautiful blonde. She'd come to his establishment four or five times over the last two years. He put her at a table tucked away in the corner. He knew she preferred this table. Sarah switched to French and ordered the steak au poivre, frites and a salad. A brief discussion between Sarah and the sommelier followed about wines. She chose a glass of vintage Cahors.

She limited herself to one glass of the Cahors. Tomorrow she would meet with Langston Graham and she would need all her wits about her. A lot had happened since she rescued Carina, a month ago.

Three weeks in Hungary with that …. that asshole Ryker. Then a week completely off the grid making sure an important package was delivered to the right person had left her drained.

She wasn't looking forward to the meeting with Director Graham.

Her phone vibrated, she smiled when she looked down. Carina had just texted her. _'In Washington, let's get together for dinner tomorrow'_. Thinking about Carina quickly led to thoughts about Chuck.

 **{o}**

 _Sarah had paid a short visit to the LA field office before she left for her mission in Hungary._

 _Shirley the analyst had approached her. "Agent Walker, good to see you again. I wonder if you've got a couple of minutes. There's something you might be interested in." Sarah followed Shirley to her console and sat down beside her._

 _Shirley called up some files and then pointed to the screen. "Ma'am, as you know_ , _we keep an audit file of every key stroke for every computer in this facility. I thought it might be interesting to look at the code the NSA analyst Bartowski used to break through the satellites firewall."_

 _Shirley paused to see if Sarah was paying attention. Sarah motioned with her right hand for her to continue._

 _"Well, all that code he used … uhhh ... it's not there. It's not in the audit file. I've checked carefully. It's simply gone."_

 _Shirley bent down and keyed in an IP address. "I was watching Bartowski very closely_ , _and I know he went into this secure website. I retrieved the IP address, username and password from the audit file."_

 _Sarah put her hand on Shirley's arm. "You were thinking of grabbing Bartowski's code from his secure site." Shirley nodded. "Yes ma'am, I was hoping there would be 'hacker treasure' we might put to good use."_

 _"Well, when I entered the username and password, the site exploded." Sarah jumped in, "you mean the server physically exploded?"_

 _Shirley laughed, "No ma'am, sorry. I meant exploded in a 'digital sense', everything on the site was shredded and mulched." Shirley pointed at her screen. "All we could find was a series of random 1s and 0s."_

 _Sarah and Shirley sat in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts._

 _Shirley broke the silence and her voice took on a rhythmic cadence, "All the algorithms, and all the Republic's women and men, couldn't put Chuck's web site, back together again."_

 **{o}**

Sarah smiled at the memory of her meeting with Shirley. She sipped her expresso and thought about how Chuck had neatly covered his tracks. While he had been helping to find Carina, he was also making sure his 'bag of codes and other tricks' wouldn't fall into the CIA's hands. Sarah allowed herself a private moment. No one in the Bistro saw the warmth in her eyes as she mouthed the words. _'Clever, clever boy Chuck'_.

 **A/N-** Next chapter in a sever or eight days


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N-** Thank you for the reviews, comments and PMs. The focus of this chapter is Sarah with another twist in the story.

Sincere thanks to michaelfmx for editing and his valued input.

 **I set her on my pacing steed,**

 **And nothing else saw all day long,**

 **For sidelong would she bend, and sing**

 **A faery's song.**

 **-John Keats**

 **Chapter 6**

 **Next Day**

 **Langley VA, CIA Headquarters – September 26, 2007**

Director Langston Graham loved to win.

One of his sayings was, 'Second is being first in a long line of losers'. He knew Hortense Williams and Diane Beckman. Over the last several years, he'd met each of them up on the Hill while they jockeyed for more budget dollars.

He'd met them socially at embassy receptions and exclusive dinners at Senators' homes. His sources in both agencies told him that Diane and Hortense were in a small pissing contest with each other to see who could recruit some IT specialist.

He'd forgotten the person's name but that wasn't important. If the heads of two rival Federal Agencies wanted to hire this 'genius', then he would beat them to the punch. He smiled at the thought of how that would irk them. Life was all about games, big ones and little ones ….the goal was always the same, win the game.

{o}

Agent Sarah Walker sat across the desk from her boss as he finished reading the confidential file, with Top Secret stamped over it several times.

She was here to talk about the mission in Budapest.

When she thought back on that mission, she clenched her jaw and her eyes narrowed. Budapest had been an unmitigated disaster, except for one redeeming element. A blue-eyed baby girl, who was now safe.

Sarah had killed eleven men in less than a minute. It had been a ballet of violence, ending with no one left alive in the audience who could applaud or cheer her dance of death.

Kieran Ryker had an innocent husband and wife murdered, by mafia thugs, and then had her take the mafia thugs off the board. She knew now that this mission hadn't been sanctioned by the CIA. He'd skillfully manipulated her to do his bidding. He'd used the fact that she was a lone wolf against her.

But she had outfoxed that weasel Ryker, temporarily.

Molly, an innocent baby, had been the prize, a golden key, the heiress to an immense fortune.

The same hand that had dealt out sudden death in Budapest to eleven men had in turn soothed the young baby to sleep, with a lot of help from Emma, her mother.

Now that same hand smoothed the fabric on her gray pencil skirt. She had carefully chosen the matching grey jacket and white blouse with French cuffs for this meeting. Her hair was pinned back in a tight bun. She was always very formal with the Director, but had become increasingly wary of her mentor.

The Director was an impressive man, in an influential and powerful position. There were rumors that Graham was presently consumed, and somewhat distracted, by a secret project, something that would make the CIA, _inter pares primus_ , 'first among equals'.

She'd heard the word _Intersect_ , once or twice, but always in a whispered tone that warned 'don't ask anymore questions'.

Graham leaned forward. "How are you holding up Agent Walker? Look, I know what Ryker made you do. I know everything."

Sarah took a breath and steadied her voice. "I was just obeying orders."

Graham waved his hand at her. "There's no need to worry about that now. Where's the package?"

Sarah paused for two heartbeats and in a tone that was full of sincerity, "I am not in the possession of the package, Director. It must be somewhere else."

Graham nodded. To look at the man you would think that he was Sarah's uncle, so warm, so caring.

With each passing day, Sarah grew wearier and wearier having to do this man's bidding. But she daren't let him know that.

She had successfully hidden from him that, one year ago, the veil had been completely ripped from her eyes about who he was and his boundless ambition.

Twelve months ago in Edinburgh her epiphany had begun.

{o}

 ** _One Year Ago- Morningside, Edinburgh Scotland, 11pm_**

 _Director Graham had given her a mission to take out a former agent who had gone rogue._

 _He had explained to her that 'this was the hardest order he'd ever have to give her'. And that this would be a very difficult assignment for her. It would take place in Britain, an ally, and if she was caught in the act or before she got out of the country, then she would be 'out in the cold'._

 _Sarah was a killer, the exotic word used was an assassin, she was Graham's enforcer._

 _This mission was different, this time she knew the target._

 _Gayle Ardis had been an instructor at the Farm. She'd helped train Sarah in hand to hand combat and counter-surveillance._

 _When Sarah arrived in Edinburgh_ , _she spent three days scouting out the property and getting a sense of the rhythm in the Ardis household. Gayle always went upstairs to bed first, while her husband Bryan, a Scot, stayed downstairs and read for another hour._

 _Graham had been very specific, leave the husband alive. Do not harm him._

 _As Sarah crept up the stairs on rubber soled shoes, she still had a hard time believing that it had come to this. What kind of bizarre world was it when you started killing off the people who had trained you?_

 _The evidence, in the file, appeared to be complete, Gayle had betrayed her country to the Russians._

 _It was all there in the top secret file that Graham had handed her._

 _Sarah didn't do these type of missions without ensuring that the protocols had been followed. The mission had to be sanctioned and she always asked to review the file and see the sign offs and the supporting evidence. She reserved the right to reject a mission if the file and protocols were not in place._

 _Sarah had never rejected a mission Graham had given her._

 _Graham knew his enforcer's peccadilloes, her insistence that missions were sanctioned. So, he played along. The files Graham handed her were always complete. The sanctions and sign offs were always correct. The files always appeared to be correct before he ordered his 'angel of death' to go forth._

 _Sarah had made sure that only Gayle and Bryan were in the stone built terraced house. The couple had no children._

 _She easily defeated the standard lock and ghosted through the back door. There was no remote security system, no motion detectors, no invisible laser beams; she'd carefully checked beforehand._

 _She tranqed the husband in the back of the neck. He slumped down in his chair. Out like a light._

 _It was very dark going up the stairs and down the hallway_ , _but the moonlight ghosted through the bedroom window onto the queen sized bed. Sarah could see Gayle asleep on the right side of the bed nearest to the window._

 _She could hear the soft snoring and saw the subtle rising and falling of Gayle's chest. She was in a deep sleep. Good. Gayle would leave this world quickly and hopefully with little pain. Sorry, Gayle._

 _Sarah raised the Ruger with the attached silencer and took aim. And then…. nothing happened._

 _Sarah kept waiting for her finger to pull the trigger but …..nothing…. She had seen the file, there were pictures … but it still didn't make any sense to Sarah._

 _Sarah lowered the gun and let it hang by the side of her leg. She stared at the bed as Gayle continued to snore._

 _Sarah couldn't find it within herself to complete the mission. She was paralyzed_ , _not with fear, but with doubts. A sense, a feeling deep within her_ , _clamped down on her other desire to follow orders._

 _The voice came from behind Sarah. She recognized the Maine accent instantly._

 _Gayle Ardis was in the perfect kill position. "Don't even twitch or I'm going to have to repaint this room." Sarah knew in that very second that she'd failed. A failure that would now cost her everything._

 _"_ _So Sarah, I take it that bastard Graham sent you to deal with the rogue agent traitor? Does he still refer to me as that redheaded bitch?"_

 _Sarah clenched her jaw and stiffened, Gayle had been rumored to be one of the best. "You've been watching me the whole time." She then gave a rueful laugh. "My God, Gayle, you even let me tranq your husband. How'd you know I wouldn't kill him?"_

 _Gayle smiled to herself. She'd helped train this young woman and she knew the woman better than Graham ever had. "I know you Sarah, maybe better than you know yourself. I told Bryan to relax and let you take him out. I told him I'd be there to give him aspirin and a glass of water when he woke up."_

 _Gayle, made a decision, lowered her gun_ , _clicked the safety on and walked over to the bed. She pressed a button and the snoring stopped. She pulled back the sheet and there was a very life like Gayle- mannequin in her spot. The mannequin's chest slowly rose and fell._

 _Gayle brushed past Sarah. "Come on, let's go downstairs and have a cup of tea. We need to have a long talk, you and I, about your boss."_

 _Sarah still had her gun, she could still kill Gayle. Gayle could've easily killed her. She knew for sure this woman was no more a traitor than she was. Something was profoundly wrong here. She unscrewed the silencer, safed her weapon and followed Gayle down to the kitchen._

 _{o}_

 _Sarah warmed her hands around the mug of tea that Gayle had made for her. They sipped their tea quietly. Gayle started. "So, when is Bryan likely to wake up?"_

 _Sarah gave Gayle a ghost of a smile. "I gave him a low dosage, another forty minutes."_

 _Sarah had to ask. "Gayle, a point of professional pride, I was very careful. There is no way you spotted me as I was setting up to …." Sarah didn't complete the sentence._

 _Gayle looked across at her former pupil. "Sarah, don't beat yourself up. I have a friend, very high up in the West Wing. A birdie told me Graham might be sending someone … and not for a visit."_

 _The teacher and the ex-pupil sat across the table and sipped their tea and fell into silence._

 _Sarah broke the silence. "Gayle, what about all the evidence I saw in the file? I mean_ , _if you're not really a traitor?"_

 _Gayle studied Sarah closely. It had been six years since they'd been together at the Farm. "Let me guess, you have pictures of me with Yuri Liapkin, and Yevgeny Poladiev. Also, you have evidence of money, two million Euros, going into an account in Geneva registered to me."_

 _Sarah was impressed but merely nodded her head._

 _Gayle gave a bitter laugh. "That rat bastard ordered me to meet with Yuri and Yevgeny. I met with them three or four times. Graham told me they were interested in becoming double agents._

 _Two months later he ordered me to set up an account in Geneva and gave me a bag full of unmarked Euros. He told me we'd use irregular channels to preposition funds for a future operation."_

 _Sarah interrupted her, "Did you receive any written orders, any texts or emails?" Gayle knitted her eyebrows and shook her head. "Of course not, everything was verbal, we met at an out of the way restaurant in Manassas, not too far from the battlefield. He told me this mission had come directly from the Oval office. It was all about keeping this operation away from the White House, plausible deniability._

 _Gayle spat the words out. "Sarah, he set me up and then_ , _when the timing was right for him_ , _he got the others to sanction my demise."_

 _Sarah was missing a piece of the puzzle. "Why does he want you eliminated?"_

 _Gayle fixed Sarah with her green eyes. "If I tell you, then you'll be tainted with the knowledge. If he ever finds out you know_ , _he might just take you off his little chessboard. Still want to know?"_

 _It was too late for Sarah to back out, she wasn't going to kill Gayle. She herself might have to go rogue in the next several hours. She wondered to herself, what the hell had happened to Graham's enforcer?_

 _Gayle got up and walked out of the kitchen to check on Bryan._

 _Sarah turned in her chair and watched as Gayle smoothed Bryan's hair, made sure a little pillow was cushioning his head. She then put the palm of her hand to his cheek, leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips._

 _A part of Sarah was envious and at the same time overjoyed that Gayle and Bryan's journey together as a couple would continue._

 _Gayle sat down. "Bryan is ex-MI6, we met years ago on a joint mission. I was given permission by Graham's predecessor, a fine old gentleman named Mac Showers, to pursue my relationship with Bryan._

 _"Mac Showers, now he was an old school gentleman._ _He was the kind of man who gave dignity to the office and whose word was his bond. Bryan resigned from MI6 before we got married, that was a condition of us getting together._

 _After Mac retired as Director, Graham was appointed. At first I was in his good books, for a season or two. Four years ago I stumbled onto the Intersect Project."_

 _Gayle spent the next twenty minutes telling Sarah about the funds that were being stripped from other approved operations to fund the Intersect. She shared with Sarah about the false starts, the ruined lives of agents and their families because of 'mental health problems' that the Intersect had caused._

 _Gayle concluded. "When I retired", she laughed, "the truth is …. when I was pushed out."_

 _Gayle shook her head sadly, "I thought Graham and I had a mutual understanding. He would leave me and Bryan alone. The quid pro quo was I would never tell anyone about his Machiavellian scheming, his malfeasance and his precious Intersect project."_

 _Simply put_ , _Gayle knew too much about Graham's secret project._

 _Sarah finally got to ask her questions, actually she only had one. "Why now?"_

 _"_ _I'm not sure_ , _but it feels like the tempo of the music has increased. Something big with the Intersect Project is going to happen. Maybe he's figured out how to make it work. He's cleaning up after himself._

 _"_ _It looks like Bryan and I need to die."_

 _She looked over at Sarah and smiled. "You're just the person to help us shuffle off this mortal coil."_

 _Once Bryan woke up_ , _they all sat down and hatched a plan for their deaths. The 'Angel of Death, Graham's enforcer, would get Gayle and Brian's help to successfully complete her mission._

 _The pictures Sarah took afterwards were graphic. Her handiwork was plain to see. Sarah even brought back a molar from each of them to add solid biological evidence to the file. Gayle and Bryan's death was given prominent treatment in the British Press._

 _Bryan still had contacts in MI6, they helped the 'dead' couple disappear._

 _When Sarah reported back to Graham_ , _he was not entirely happy. His enforcer had killed the husband. It was very unusual for Agent Walker to slip up like that. He wanted Bryan Ardis to remain alive and grieve his departed wife for years to come._

 _Alas, sometimes collateral damage occurred. Langston Graham closed the file and dismissed Agent Walker._

 **Graham's Office- September 25, 2007- The Present**

Sarah knew she was a means to an end, she was a consumable that one day would be wrung dry and tossed away, at a time of Langston Graham's choosing.

Sarah wanted to shake her head but didn't dare, not in his presence.

It had taken too damn long to come to this quiet awakening. It had started as a whisper from an agent in the dark of night, a document she shouldn't have seen, a mission that didn't quite make sense to her.

The sum of all these pieces coming together in Sarah's agile mind was unequivocal. Her mentor wasn't happy just being the Director of the CIA, he wanted more. Perhaps he even wanted to be the man who was beside the President and whispered in his ear about national security issues.

Looking back, Sarah knew, that Graham had far exceeded his legitimate authority in recruiting a seventeen year old high school girl into the ranks of the CIA. The official CIA records, all classified, showed that Sarah Walker (her agency name) had been recruited in her second year at Harvard, when she was 21 years old. That was only one of a dozen untruths Graham had manufactured about her that he had put into the official record, to hide the lies.

Sarah waited as Graham took a phone call from a Senator.

She looked down at her hands. At least Molly was safe and hidden from .. from ..well, from everyone. The only person she trusted was Emma, her mother. As long as Ryker was alive, she could never see Molly or Emma.

Graham hung up the phone and reached to his left.

He grabbed another file. "Agent Walker, this is your report on the Mattick affair and how you saved the life of DEA Agent Miller. The DEA Director has expressed her personal gratitude to me for your efforts."

Sarah's demeanor was like the North Star, constant and unblinking. Graham reminded himself just how dangerous his protégé had become.

Graham leaned back in his leather chair. "The DEA and the NSA want this IT fellow, Bartlouski .. something … or other.

"You worked with him. Find him and recruit him for our team. If the DEA & NSA want him that much, I want him even more." Sarah nodded her understanding of what her boss wanted.

{o}

Sarah Walker closed the Director's door.

Only when she was sure he couldn't see her did she start to smile.

Now this was a mission she'd really enjoy.

She'd convinced herself that she would never see Chuck Bartowski in the flesh, again. They lived in separate worlds. Sarah didn't know whether she believed in fate. But she would seize this opportunity to see him again with both hands.

Chuck had been on her mind these past few weeks. To her amazement, she hadn't been able to just move on and forget about what had happened in Burbank. The image of a curly, brown haired man kept popping into her mind at the oddest moments.

It made no rational sense to her why she wanted to see him again. What possible outcome was she hoping for? However, the mere thought of seeing him again warmed her.

Sarah's smile grew bigger.

Graham's secretary Gloria had worked for him for ten years. She'd seen Agent Sarah Walker come and go from his office many times over the years. This was the first time she could ever remember seeing the tall, beautiful young woman with a genuine smile on her face. Curious.

{o}

After Sarah drove through the main gate, she stopped by the side of the road and sent a text message to Tom Corrigan. Tom was a senior analyst with the CIA. He'd retired last year but had been called back to do contract work with the agency.

He was Sarah's favorite analyst. Tom had earned her respect and a modicum of trust.

Her message to him was brief. "Meet me for lunch, Bethesda, usual spot."

{o}

Tom Corrigan entered Jaleo's, a bistro off Elm St, and started scanning for Agent Walker. He found her sitting at a corner table, near an exit.

Tom had silver hair, in his case it was an indicator of a lifetime of experience working for the CIA. He'd seen and worked with many agents over the last thirty years. Agent Walker was on his top five list.

They settled into an easy conversation. As they ate their lunch, they chatted about the agency, world affairs and some juicy gossip that was currently bouncing around Langley. Tom knew was still plugged into the grapevine.

After the dishes were cleared and they were sipping their coffee, Sarah got to the point.

"Tom, I need you to do a standard work up on Charles Irving Bartowski. He just completed a three year contract with the NSA. Director Graham wants us to find and recruit him to the agency. He is .. he's very talented."

Tom cocked his head and arched his left eyebrow and waited.

They looked at each other for two or three seconds. "Sarah, I'm waiting for the other shoe to fall. You could've asked me to do this at Langley. So, what else do you want?"

Sarah gave a soft laugh. "Okay, it's for my eyes only, I want you to do a 'deep dive' on this guy. He was expelled from Stanford, dig into why. He was got caught hacking by the FBI, call in some favors and tell me more about the details of the arrest. Dig deep into his family, mother, father and especially the sister. She lives in Echo Park in Burbank."

Sarah closed her eyes, there was something else.

Then it came to her, Chuck easily hacked into the satellites. How many people could actually do that? "Tom, the agency keeps a list of the top twenty hackers who are still at large and haven't yet been identified. Get another analyst, who you trust, to narrow down the list to only those we have good reason to believe are in the continental US."

Tom nodded his head. "I'm assuming that the 'deep dive' information on this guy doesn't get filed anywhere on the agency computers?"

Sarah nodded and thought of something else.

"One other piece of information, two days ago he missed a flight home to Burbank. He just didn't show up, that strikes me as odd."

Tom was lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he replied. "A couple of thoughts, either he's been detained. By whom, I don't know. Why, I don't know. Or he doesn't want to be found, just yet. Why does he want to keep a low profile? I have no idea."

Sarah leaned forward. "There are no alerts, no APB's on Chuck Bartowski, officially, none of the Federal Agencies are looking for him. But I know the DEA and the NSA are quietly looking for him."

Sarah waved for the cheque. "Too many damn questions and too few answers. I'm hoping that I can contact Chuck ahead of the NSA and DEA. I strongly suspect that John Casey and Carina Miller are leading the search for their respective agencies.

"Casey has a great reputation for finding people. I want to find him first."

On his drive back to Langley, Tom wondered about three things. Who on earth was Charles Bartowski? Why was he so special? And, finally, why did Agent Sarah Walker refer to him as Chuck. Unless he missed his guess, she had more than a professional interest in this guy.

Sarah eased the Porsche onto the 495, she hit her speed dial. Carina answered.

Sarah smiled. "So, Carina, when were you going to tell me that you and the NSA are looking to recruit Chuck? You owe me Carina, so tell me what you know so far. Neither of us want John Casey to find him first."

{o}

 **September 26, 2007- The Present**

- **Manassas National Battlefield Park -42 miles from the Washington Navy Yard**

 _Hi my name is Chuck and here are some things you may not know. I've spent the last two nights at the Super 8 –Motel in Manassas. It's clean, with free WIFI and breakfast._

 _I can now admit that I was in a bit of a funk after I left the Navy Yard. Looking back, I think I had built up some resentment …. You know resentment about my three years of working for the NSA and being at the very bottom of the employment ladder._

 _My plan to make myself appear 'average' over three long years was slowly eating away at my self-confidence. It may have helped create some of that resentment._

 _After I visited Western Union and sorted out how to move my cash around. I bought two burner phones._

 _I contacted Ellie while she was working at the hospital. I didn't want her to worry about me._

 _I think I said, 'Ellie, I'd like two or three days by myself, to think about what's next. Tell Morgan I'll touch base with him next week. I then mentioned that a man called John Casey, one of my former bosses at the NSA, might contact her. If he did please tell him I said I'd be home in a week._

 _Ellie and I had a couple of secure ways, I'd developed, to contact each other over the internet through a secure web site I created. I'd told her only to use the laptop situated in the doctor's Lounge at the hospital._

 _Now I'd dealt with all the practical stuff I still didn't have a plan what to do and still keep a low profile._

 _I remembered going to the Antietam Battlefield. (that sparked remembering the beautiful but somewhat withdrawn Zondra Rizzo.)._

 _I'd heard about but had never been to Manassas. So I hopped on a bus, then the green line, the silver line and another bus and voila, two and a half hours later, I ended up here._

 _I think in hindsight, I might've been a tad hasty in ducking the meeting with Brigadier General Diane Beckman._

 _In my defence, I'm still not happy with people ordering me around. (By the way I know the General's name is not Becker or Beagle. I looked it up on line. It is embarrassing not knowing the name of the big boss.)_

 _However, to be fair, when you're at the very bottom of thirty thousand employees … it's a long way too look up and why would you care?)_

 _It helped settle my mind being able to talk with Ellie and Devon on one of the burner phones last night. We talked about why I ducked the meeting. (I didn't tell them about be interrogated by Agent Sarah Walker.)_

 _Ellie was the voice of reason. "Chuck, you haven't done anything wrong. You did what they asked, you followed the agreement faithfully. Frankly, Chuck, I think you're being a little paranoid. Go and talk to your former boss and see what she wants."_

 _I sent an email this morning to the General and John Casey saying that I would be happy to meet with them at 9am on Monday, if they still wanted to see me._

 _I guess I'll turn up at the main gate at Fort Mead, introduce myself and see what happens next._

 _Thus far I haven't got an email back from the General, maybe she's still angry at me for wasting her time or she's busy protecting the country._

 _I did get an email back from John Casey._

'Bartowski, you moron. You've wasted two days of my valuable time. I've got better things to do than chase after a wet behind the ears, IT Nerd. The General wants to talk to you about a job offer, dimwit.

(At this point in the email, I understood why Casey wasn't in HR recruiting for the NSA.)

You better be at Ft. Mead on Monday … and I mean exactly at 9am … you do not want to hear what the ' or else will be' …trust me. One more thing Bartowski, I'm pretty sure you've been sandbagging me and the entire NSA for the last three years …. We're going to talk about that.

-Casey

 _I'm hoping the email from him means that for the next several days, John Casey won't break through my motel door looking for me. So now I've got some free time until Sunday afternoon._

 _Why all of a sudden does the NSA want to offer me a job? I've a bad feeling that hacking into the satellites didn't go unnoticed._

 _Oh, well, it's like they say, 'no good deed fails to go unpunished.'_

 _Yesterday, I did the tour of the battlefield and learned there was actually two battles here. The North called them, the first Battle of Bull Run and the second Battle of Bull Run. The North lost both battles._

 _As chance would have it, while I was at the interpretation centre for the battlefield there was a notice on one of the boards._

 _ **"** **Follow in the footsteps of Stonewall Jackson and his campaign through the Shenandoah Valley. A four day guided tour, meals, accommodations and transport included -$475."**_

 _So I just signed up and forked over the money. The tour finishes on Sunday afternoon and they'll drop me off back in Washington._

 _So, now you're caught up._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N** \- I'm a wee bit behind in responding to the reviews but very much appreciate them, along with comments and PMs. Thank you michaelfmx, for your editing and valued input. All mistakes are mine.

 **She found me roots of relish sweet,**

 **And honey wild, and manna dew**

 **And sure in language strange she said—**

 **'** **I love thee true'.**

 **-John Keats**

 **Chapter 7**

 **September 27, 2007 –Manassas Interpretation Centre -3:30pm**

Carina Miller came out of the CCTV room shaking her head. How the hell could you come so tantalizingly close and yet still miss him? The Park Rangers had been helpful and shown her the tapes for the last two days.

Yesterday's tape was a goldmine. Eureka! She'd found Chuck.

She saw him entering the interpretation centre looking around some of the exhibits, he looked at the notice boards and then left to tour the battlefield. She finally found someone at the Super 8 Motel who remembered him.

Mr. Charles Irving had paid cash and had been absolutely no problem. The staff all said he kept to himself. The room had been thoroughly cleaned and offered no clues. The final piece of shitty intelligence was that no one at the Motel or at the Battlefield knew where he was headed.

Carina sat down on one of the benches and collected her thoughts. She allowed herself a smile because, so far, she'd outsmarted Casey and Blondie.

Carina hadn't survived this long in the field without being very smart and staying one step ahead of the Cartel drug lords and their sicarios. Her gift was to get people to underestimate her, she was a pretty face and a flirt, 'look no further'.

She knew Casey would do all the usual things; trace credit cards, cell phones, set up surveillance on the sister's apartment in Burbank, including her phones and computers. The DEA had done the same and the CIA probably was in the process of doing so.

Carina smiled, Blondie was in charge of finding Chuck for the CIA. She'd had to tell her some of the information about the search. Sarah had saved her life and that merited some truth telling.

But both Sarah and Carina knew that each of them would hold back some of what they knew ….it was part of the game. This time the prize was Chuckles.

She'd underestimated Chuck Bartowski once. She'd not do it again.

Her initial plan, two days ago, had been to tail Casey. Casey was one of the best at finding people and if she followed him, she would ultimately find Chuckles. The problem with that idea, of following Casey, was a 'lose-lose' strategy.

Casey's tradecraft was just too damn good. Eventually, he'd spot the tail and then he'd lead the DEA on a merry chase away from the prize.

Carina had quickly discarded that idea.

However, there might be another way. She knew that Casey had two assistants he relied on to do a lot of the 'detective work' and help him in his searches. She'd worked with Casey's team once … NSA Agents Janice Howard and Mohammad Nawfal.

Carina called in one her best trackers, Kirk Summers, to follow Mohammad. She decided to follow Janice herself. When she followed someone, she had to become forgettable, and that took some considerable work on her part.

Carina wore a mousy brown wig, put braces on her teeth and dressed one step up from being homeless.

She and her fellow agent were very careful in their tracking of the NSA agents.

Casey had trained them well, but they weren't up to Casey's standard …. yet.

Carina followed Janice around for forty minutes and made a note of where she went and how long she spent in each place. Janice spent a lot of time in the Army Surplus Store.

Carina went in after Janice left. The owner had recognized Chuck. She asked to look at the CCTV cameras and spotted Chuckles wearing a new ball cap, light brown windbreaker and backpack. They continued to follow Janice and Mohammad as they did all the heavy lifting of walking around the area and talking with shop owners.

Carina and Kirk Summers used the same system to find out where Chuckles had cashed his pay cheque.

Then, yesterday something bizarre happened.

Janice and Mohammad both got a phone call and headed back to Ft. Mead. It looked like they'd given up trying to trace Chuckles trail. Why? Had they found him?

Carina called her boss, Hortense Williams.

Hortense confirmed that the NSA had not found nor had they signed Chuck Bartowski to a contract. Carina asked the Director how she knew this. "Because, Agent Miller, not that this is any of your business but I've got a $100 bet with the General that we'll find him first. If she had him, I'd be out $100."

The Director almost snarled the last words at her. "Find him!"

Carina and three other agents were now doing the search the hard way. They'd been looking at CCTV tapes of local buses and The Metro tapes for long tedious hours. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

They got lucky and a young agent with good eyes spotted Chuckles on the Silver Line. Then they lost him at the bus depot. Carina called in three more agents and they checked the CCTV cameras for the local buses where Chuckles disembarked from the Silver line.

Four hours ago, their hard work paid off. Finally, they spotted him getting off of a bus in Manassas.

Carina looked around the interpretation centre. She could feel her anger growing, she'd been so close. He had been here in Manassas yesterday.

She wearily got up and walked over to the notice board.

She took out her phone and took pictures of everything on the notice boards. Chuckles had stood here reading the boards for five or six minutes. She'd have her team check out all the notices. There might be a clue, some leads to follow.

Carina had no way of knowing that the printed notice for the _'four day guided trip'_ to follow Stonewall Jackson on his Shenandoah Campaign had been removed early this morning and thrown in the garbage. The tour had been set up by a third party and not the Ranger service.

Cameron Boyle, was young, efficient and very eager. His boss told him to get rid of the old notices on the board. The bus tour had left early this morning, therefore out it went.

 **September 28, 2007- Delta Airlines 8542- Final Approach to LAX -11am**

Sarah turned her iPad on again.

She reached up with her left hand and rubbed her forehead. She felt the beginning of a headache.

A careful second reading of Tom Corrigan's 'deep dive' report on Chuck Bartowski, left her perplexed. She realized that some of her first impressions about Chuck, based on the initial information she'd been given,when she first met him, were terribly suspect.

She also felt a tiny ping of guilt, with the memory of their first meeting, because of how she'd treated him.

Tom had discovered some interesting things about the tall, lanky man, who'd been on her mind a lot these last two days.

Tom was like a bloodhound when he caught the whiff of an interesting scent. He'd told her that he'd only slept five hours in the last thirty-six. He was still narrowing down the CIA's wanted list of elite hackers. There was a bit of guess work involved in determining those who lived in Canada and the US.

 ** _Tom's Executive Summary –Deep Dive Report Charles Irving Bartowski_**

 _Executive Summary_

 _CB is a highly intelligent man, 99_ _th_ _percentile on standard IQ tests. 'Gifted' is the term often used in academic reports about CB._

 _Expelled from Stanford_

 _CB's roommate (name redacted because of Stanford's 'Whistle Blower 'policy-It will take me another day or so to find out the roommate's name from Residence records.) reported that CB was cheating on midterm exam for 'Cognitive Enhancement/Adaption and Recall to Visual Stimulation' course. The Course was offered by Professor Fleming. Special note: Professor Fleming has received several funding grants from DARPA._

 _The Stanford investigation, the hearing and final decision by the Provost to expel him was extremely rapid. CB did not appeal._

 _CB's fiancé_ , _Ms. Jill Roberts_ , _broke off engagement with him. Assume this was due to his expulsion. All the indications are of him having a broken heart. Returned to previous employer, Buy More. Moved in with his sister and her fiancé. Every appearance as a classic underachiever._

 _Questions_

 _CBs was on a full scholarship. He already had enough credits to graduate. He had no reason to cheat. According to the records I accessed_ , _he'd never been accused of cheating before. Was he being set up? If so, why? Was the roommate's role entirely innocent?_

 _Comment_

 _I have a growing belief CB did not cheat. It makes no sense._

 _Arrest by FBI for Hacking in 2004_

 _I talked with FBI Agent Laura Henderson. CB and a Mr. Morgan Grimes were both initially arrested, as both had confessed to the crime. Grimes and CB are apparently lifelong friends._

 _Agent Henderson is an IT expert with a master's degree from MIT. According to her, the code used to hack into the federal website originated in Russia. She questioned both suspects. It is her firm belief that Grimes did not have sufficient knowledge to write the code. But, and this is interesting, she suspected it was Grimes who procured the code and did the hacking. Her comment. "The code was used by several hundred people in the Los Angeles area."_

 _She felt that CB had more than enough skill to hack into the site. However, she strongly suspected that CB would've written better code to do the job._

 _Agent Henderson was not allowed to follow up on her suspicions. The NSA took over the investigation._

 _Comment_

 _Agent Henderson asked what had happened to CB, as a professional courtesy she asked, 'Could we let her know about CB?'._

Sarah looked at the picture of FBI Agent Laura Henderson that Tom had included in the report. Laura Henderson was very pretty. She narrowed her eyes. _'Sorry, Agent Henderson, you don't have a need to know about Chuck.'_

Sarah turned her attention back to the report.

 _Follow up_

 _I talked with Shirley from the Los Angeles field office and Doug Cousins from our advanced Cyber Intelligence Unit. Their conclusion, CB should definitely be classed as being in the first rank of hackers._

 _Questions_

 _Who actually hacked into the federal website in 2004? Was it Grimes who hacked into the site? Is CB the type of person who would take the fall for his best friend, to keep him out of jail?_

 _Family_

 _Mother Mary Bartowski (nee Gunter): No information available. I did find her birth certificate and a marriage certificate. She abandoned her family. (CB was in the fifth grade). More about her later._

 _Father is Stephen Bartowski, PHD: Gifted but eccentric. Current address is trailer in Barstow CA. He abandoned his daughter and his son shortly after his wife left. More about him later._

 _Dr. Eleanor Fay Bartowski, MD, PHD: (Friends call her Ellie) highly intelligent and accomplished. She had full scholarship through UCLA and attended medical school. She went on to get her PHD in Neuroscience/Neurology. She is a staff doctor at Westside Medical, Burbank, with full medical privileges and a small research laboratory._

 _Debt: EB still has $125,000 of outstanding student loans._

 _Comments_

 _EB is the most important person in CB's life. She is a big sister and a mother to him. EB protected her brother and kept them both out of the foster care system. I contacted several doctors at Westside (I said I was with a private foundation looking to fund her research). She is well liked and respected._

 _EB is in a long standing relationship with Dr. Devon Woodcombe, surgeon. (Cursory search on him indicates he comes from a 'connected' family, with a long history in California. His parents have close links to the Governor and the senior Senator from California.)_

 _My antennae are twitching about the mother Mary and the father Stephen._

 _There is virtually nothing in our digital data files. No record of whether she is alive or dead. No employment history. No military record. She's like a ghost._

 _Something's not right here!_

 _I have the same bad feeling about the father. Records are non-existent after he completed Graduate School. I've hit a brick wall. No employment information and he has a zero footprint on the Internet._

 _CB comes from a dysfunctional family. It amazes me that both children didn't end up with lengthy criminal records._

 _Questions_

 _Who is Mary Bartowski-Gunter? Where is she? Where did Stephen Bartowski get his money? Why is there almost zero information about them in the public records? Has their information been cleaned up? If so, by whom?_

 _Warning_

 _I would be very careful about asking any further questions within the Agency._ _My initial queries were accepted and considered normal, since we were looking for Charles Bartowski. However, the lack of any information should serve as a_ _ **warning**_ _to both of us._

 **{o}**

Sarah mashed down on the accelerator of the rental car. She was headed for Westside Medical.

She wanted to meet and talk with Dr. Eleanor F. Bartowski about her brother, Chuck.

She was sure that Chuck was keeping a low profile. He still hadn't 'popped up'. He wasn't using his cell phone or his credit cards. _Where are you Chuck?_

Tom was correct, as usual. Ellie was the most important person in his life, and she needed to make a connection with Ellie, if she was to have any hope of contacting Chuck.

 **{o}**

Sarah parked the car and headed for Ellie's little research lab.

Tom had indicated that today was Ellie's 'research' day. Sarah had carefully prepared for the meeting. Ellie would be in work mode, her long brown hair would most likely be pinned up in a bun and she would have minimal makeup on. She would undoubtedly be wearing her white lab coat.

Sarah had decided to wear no makeup, her hair was pinned up in a bun and she wore a pair of zero prescription glasses. After a lot of internal debate, Sarah decided to present herself as an agent. She wore a blue grey suit jacket and trousers.

As she walked up the three flights of stairs to Ellie's lab, she couldn't shake a growing sense of how important this meeting would be. The 'feeling' she had was centered in her gut, and it wasn't a comfortable feeling. Sarah was going over in her mind what she wanted to say and how she wanted to say it.

She reminded herself to treat Ellie as insightful, intelligent and informed. Sarah had zero doubt that Ellie had been in contact with her brother since he'd left the NSA.

 **{o}**

The knock on the door broke Ellie's concentration as she looked into her microscope at a neuron. Ellie had a small grant to study how the neuron 'fires'. She was mildly annoyed by the interruption, usually no one bothered her on her research day. Ellie allowed herself a smile, sometimes Devon would visit for lunch. She'd lock the door and ….

Ellie shook the thought away, who the hell was at the door.

Sarah was prepared to meet a lovely looking, intelligent woman. Ellie in the flesh was all that and more. It was the eyes, they were similar to her brother but not as dark, there was more gold and a touch of green.

"Hello, may I help you?"

"Hello Dr. Bartwoski, I'm Sarah Walker, I'm a federal agent and it was my privilege to work with your brother. I wonder if we could chat."

Ellie had expected to bump into a John Casey with the NSA. Chuck hadn't mentioned another federal agent. Certainly not one who was this beautiful and with such riveting blue eyes.

Ellie had a quick thought. _Chuck_ , _what have you been up to?_ Ellie invited Sarah in and they sat down on two bench stools. Sarah presented Ellie with her ID and cred pack. Ellie looked closely at Sarah and her picture. "So, why on earth is the CIA interested in my brother?"

Sarah gave Ellie a smile. She'd decided in the stairwell that to gain a little trust from Ellie, she'd tell her a little bit of the truth. "I worked with your brother on a classified mission. What I can tell you is that your brother is very talented, very smart and he helped save an agent's life. The agent in question is my best friend."

Ellie was paying very close attention to Agent Walker's body language as well as her words.

She was a little confused. Agent Walker's words were measured and spoken in a cool alto voice. The body language was very controlled, one hand resting on the lab bench and the other resting in her lap. Ellie wasn't sure, maybe she was wrong, but she detected a warmth in the tone of her voice as the agent spoke about her brother.

"Agent Walker …" Sarah interrupted. "Dr. Bartowski, please call me Sarah, this is not a formal visit. I'm here to send Chuck some information he may not know. It may be helpful to him."

Ellie's internal radar picked up on the use of his name. 'Chuck' is it then. "Very well, Sarah and please, call me Ellie.

"So, Sarah, how might I help you?"

Sarah shifted her position and gave Ellie an edited version of what was going on. It took her five minutes to explain.

Ellie sat back and laughed. "So, the NSA, the DEA and the CIA are all interested in having Chuck come and work for them." Sarah nodded. Ellie shifted her position on the stool. "And you're certain he doesn't know this?"

"Ellie, I don't know what Chuck knows for sure. I was wondering if you could take out your cell phone and perhaps record a short video message to Chuck from me and please send it to him, when I'm gone."

Ellie studied Sarah closely. She wouldn't tell Sarah where Chuck was and she wouldn't tell her how she contacted him. But she was very curious to listen to the message. "Alright, I can do that."

Sarah looked into the iPhone and, when Ellie signalled she was ready, began.

"Hello Chuck, I've asked your sister to record this and send it to you. I wanted you to know that the NSA, the DEA and my agency, the CIA, all want to recruit you. The 'affair' you were involved with where you helped save my friend's life didn't go unnoticed."

Sarah focussed all her energy into the next bit.

"At the moment, you're in a great position to negotiate a lucrative contract with one of the agencies. However, I must warn you that this moment will not last long. Things move fast in Washington and if you delay, it will pass you by."

Sarah took out a pen from her purse and ripped out a page from her little notebook.

"Chuck, I'm writing down a burner phone number where you can reach me. I'll give this to your sister. Only you and she have this number. I know a lot about Federal pay scales and I would be happy to talk with you further. I ….uhh ...guess you already know only to make the cell phone call when you're registered on only one cell tower."

Sarah leaned in just a tiny bit for the last piece of her message.

"Chuck, my boss wants me to recruit you, to exclusively work at the CIA. But I owe it to you … because you helped save Car….. my friend …to tell you to be smart and drive a hard bargain and work with the agency you want to work for."

Sarah signalled to Ellie that she was finished.

Ellie was beyond curious. "Sarah, you worked with Chuck, correct?"

"Yes, just the one time. But he impressed my colleagues." Ellie almost laughed out loud _. It looks like he made an impression on you too Agent Sarah Walker._

Sarah stood up and put her hand out. "Ellie, I'm sorry to have disturbed your research. I imagine I don't need to tell you to be careful and discreet when you contact Chuck. Don't use your own computer or any of your personal cell phones."

Ellie shook Sarah's hand. It was a firm handshake, denoting an underlying strength in the grip. "Sarah, I'll be careful. Chuck can be very cautious when he chooses to be, as can I. Don't worry, he'll get your message and your private cell number."

After Sarah left and Ellie was alone in her lab, she put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. _Chuck, Chuck ….what have you been doing in Washington and why is this beautiful federal agent so interested in helping you?_ She remembered that Sarah actually said in her message …'I owe you?'

 _Ohh, I've got a lot of questions for you little brother._

 **Seven Hours Later – September 28, 2007 – 9pm**

 **Quality Inn-Front Royal, VA –Deep in the Shenandoah Valley**

Chuck had his old reliable laptop. He used the WIFI to make contact with Ellie through his secure website. Ellie had uploaded the video message from Agent Walker and had asked him a lot of questions on chat mode.

Chuck had to tell Ellie that he couldn't go into a lot of detail because of the non-disclosure agreements he'd signed. He most certainly didn't tell her about his interrogation.

His sister kept calling her Sarah like they'd met at some garden party. Ellie's final chat comment was, ' _Let me know the next time you meet with Sarah.'_

Chuck watched the video four or five times. If Sarah was telling the truth, then this put a whole different spin on things. Then the questions popped up in his mind, like bubbles in a bath. Do I want to work for the government? What kind of money would they pay me? Why did Sarah Walker go out of her way to contact Ellie?

What does she know about me and my background? Chuck laughed out loud. If he didn't miss his guess, at this moment he was a fly under a microscope. The good, the bad and the ugly of Chuck Bartowski's life was being collected, sifted and digested by three Federal Agencies.

So much for flying under the radar.

After a restless hour lying on his bed, he grabbed his laptop and checked cell coverage in the Front Royal area. AT&T, Verizon, T-mobile, Sprint ..they were all here, but the signals were weak for most of them. Sprint was the best so he spent thirty minutes getting past the firewall and ensuring that only one tower in the area would pick up his burner phone number. His signal would now be omnidirectional.

He then keyed in the number Ellie had given him for Sarah Walker's burner phone. Three times he keyed the number in and then cancelled the call.

He wanted to talk with Sarah, he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with the 'shield maiden'. He finally rationalized with himself, that if it was only a phone call, he wouldn't be mesmerized by those blue eyes. One second he saw a coldness that numbed him, and two seconds later he saw a warmth that touched him.

The fourth time he keyed the number in he pressed talk.

S: "Hello." Sarah wanted to say is that you Chuck, but hesitated. There was a three second pause.

C: "Hi, Agent Walker, you gave my sister your number … uhhh .. I have some questions. Is this a good time?" Chuck almost laughed out loud, man he had a thousand questions for this woman.

S: "Hi, Chuck, in order for me to keep calling you Chuck, I think you need to call me Sarah, okay?"

C: "Yes, okay. Uhhh …. Sarah, I got your video message. I already know the NSA wants to offer me a job. Why do the other two agencies want to offer me a job? Is it because of what I did to find Carina?"

S: "Yes, Carina and I both had to submit detailed reports, as did the Station Chief in Los Angeles. I'm afraid the reports were rather glowing about your abilities and efforts to save a federal agent's life. Saving an agent's life matters to the bosses."

C: "Are you still looking for me, I mean on behalf of the CIA?" Chuck had thought a lot about what Sarah's true motives were. There was a short pause as Sarah thought through several possible answers, some lies and some truthful.

S: "Officially, I'm still looking for you, because that's what my boss wants. I'm hoping you're continuing to keep a low profile and that means I won't find you. Unofficially, I wanted to help you."

C: "Why?" Chuck had been dying to ask that question. He pressed the phone hard against his ear.

S: "I ... I .. made a mistake when we first met. You told me I should've trusted you. I should've but …. I didn't. Now, I have an opportunity to help you. But you need to place a little trust in me."

Sarah, stopped there and waited. She felt her heartbeat increase. My God, how pitiful was it when she used words like misunderstanding and mistake. Shit, there first meeting had been a disaster. She'd punched, kidnapped and scared Chuck half to death, until he'd fainted away in the interrogation room. How can you possibly make amends for that, but she was determined to try.

C: "Won't you get in trouble with your boss? … I mean, you said in your message to go with the agency I choose?" Chuck heard Sarah's soft laugh on the other end of the call.

S: "Well, at the moment there are only two people on the face of the earth who could tell my boss what I'm doing …so, unless you or Ellie are planning on ratting me out … I'll be okay."

C: Chuck gave a soft laugh. " … Well, I guess you're safe then. So, would you mind telling me what the salary ranges might be and any other advice you have for me …. I mean, assuming that I want to work for the government."

Sarah spent the next five minutes outlining the salary structures in the CIA, and she told him they wouldn't be too different for the other agencies.

Sarah had to bite her tongue. She wanted to tell Chuck her growing sense that they would make a great agent/analyst team. She wanted to warn him to be careful around Langston Graham. But all those thoughts stayed locked inside Sarah.

S: "…. Chuck, one more thing. I wasn't kidding that this window of opportunity for you will close quickly. If you want to work for the government and leverage a very good deal …. Now is your chance."

Chuck had been making notes as Sarah talked, he had so many questions ….too many for a phone call.

C: "Can I send you a text or an email? Obviously, you won't want me to call this burner phone again."

Sarah gave him another burner phone number where he could send a text and a very private email address.

S: "Chuck, one final thing. Ahhh, I've been looking into your background and history. It's standard procedure for any possible new hire. One thing I came across is that Ellie still has a sizeable student debt." Sarah held her breath, waiting for Chuck to explode or protest that they were invading his and Ellie's privacy.

Nothing for several seconds.

C: "I know the NSA already has a file, so I'm not surprised that you and the DEA would be doing the same thing, but I'm missing the connection with Ellie's debt and my joining the government?"

S: "Once you're hired, you will be locked into the government's pay grades and policies. They are very rigid. Sometimes, government agencies offer signing bonuses when they're hiring. Now, if you want to help Ellie, maybe you could request … that based on signing a contract or your future performance … research grants could be sent to her."

Chuck pulled the phone away and looked at it. Was this the same woman who'd had him tied to a chair and scared the shit out of him? Chuck started to come up with an idea and needed to end the call.

Sarah waited and counted the seconds. When it got to eight, she wondered if she'd said something horribly wrong.

C: "A signing bonus? …. Uhhh, thank you. It's getting late …so … thank you for talking with me. Sarah, you might want to be in Washington and free … say around 9am on Monday. I'll text you later. Bye."

S:"Bye Chuck." Sarah smiled to herself. _'Don't worry Chuck, I'll be there … I wouldn't miss it for the world."_

 **Saturday, September 29, 2007 – 3am**

 **Text and email to** : General D. Beckman; Director Hortense Williams; Director Langston Graham

CC: Agent John Casey; Agent Carina Miller; Agent Sarah Walker.

 _ **Subject **: Hiring Charles I. Bartowski as Senior Analyst, IT expert_

 _Dear Madams/Sir:_

 _I understand that each of your agencies would like to recruit me._

 _I am open to negotiating an arrangement to work with one your agencies. I would like to meet with Agent Miller, Agent Casey and Agent Walker. Please ensure that each of your agent's has full authority from yourself to bind your agency in any final agreements with me._

 _I will be in the lobby at The Willard on Pennsylvania Avenue this Monday at 9am._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Charles (Chuck) Bartowski._

 **Saturday, September 29, 2007 – 5pm –Front Royal, VA**

Zondra came out of Martin's food store with a bottle of Bordeaux for dinner tonight.

She loved visiting her mom and dad up here in the Shenandoah Valley. Commander Marcus Rizzo had taken early retirement when he reached his twenty-five years of service. He and Gwen had purchased a half acre of land over in Riverton, that overlooked the North Branch of the Shenandoah River.

This was one of the few places where she could truly relax and be herself. No disguises, no lies, no suspicions and no CIA.

Zondra was still trying to get solid evidence on Amy. Evidence that would clearly show that she was a traitor and connected with Augusto Gaez. She had to tread very cautiously. Amy's star at the agency was ascending. She was one of Langston Graham's favored agents. Zondra was not.

Zondra had followed up on the transmitter and Chuck had been correct. It had been passed onto to the Drug Cartels by the disgraced and recently departed Thomas Shelby. She still wondered if she should chance reaching out to Sarah with what she knew ….and get her help. However, each time she stopped herself. She worried that Sarah would go directly to Graham and then that would be it.

Graham would side with Amy, and Zondra would be dismissed from the Agency.

As she turned the corner, she caught sight of a tall lanky man in a brown windbreaker. It took a couple of seconds before she mouthed the words 'Chuck'. She looked at him and she saw Chuck's eyes widen with recognition.

"Chuck Bartowski, what are you doing in Front Royal?" Chuck felt immediate relief with Zondra's question, obviously she wasn't one of the agent's from the CIA looking for him.

"Hi Zondra, … uhhmm .. I'm following in the footsteps of Stonewall Jackson."

Zondra laughed. "Well, just make sure you don't follow his footsteps all the way over to Chancellorsville." It was Chuck's turn to laugh because he knew that Stonewall Jackson was killed at the end of the battle that took place in Chancellorsville in 1863.

Chuck pointed up the street. "I'm with a tour group exploring his Valley campaign. I head back to Washington tomorrow. What's your connection to Front Royal?" As soon as Chuck asked the question, he saw Zondra sifting through possible answers.

"I'm on a little break, I like coming up here." Zondra, wasn't about to reveal any other information. Chuck sighed to himself, God, CIA Agents. Why did he even bother asking them any questions at all?

Zondra, saw Chuck purse his lips with her evasive answer. For some reason, his reaction tugged at her emotions a bit. Why did hiding the truth from Chuck elicit that reaction? Oh, well.

A little of the warmth in Cuck's tone disappeared. "Well, nice seeing you again Zondra, I'm going to rejoin the tour group."

Zondra, couldn't believe she'd retreated so quickly behind her defenses and shut down the conversation. Then she thought of a way to effect a little repair with Chuck.

"Chuck, I'm heading back to Washington tomorrow around noon. I wouldn't mind some company on the drive back. What do you say?"

Chuck's inside voice and outside voice got muddled. "That might be okay, I mean, if you actually talk to me on the ride back to Washington, you know, actually say more than ten syllables.…."

Zondra laughed. "Yes, Chuck, I promise to talk with you on the trip back. Seriously, I'd enjoy the company. Please."

Zondra had an ulterior motive. She wanted to pick Chuck's brain on the transmitter and for him to help her come up with strategies on how to link a transmission from Amy to Augusto Gaez.

Chuck looked at Zondra for a five count …. "Sure, okay, pick me up at the Quality Inn. And thank you."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N** \- A sincere thank you for the reviews, comments and PMs. Thank you michaelfmx for your considerable skill in editing this story. Somebody probably made a lot of money from 'Chuck', it wasn't me.

**Trivia- OPM is the Office of Personnel Management.

 _She took me to her Elfin grot_

 _And there she wept and sighed full sore,_

 _And there I shut her wild wild eyes_

 _With kisses four._

- **John Keats**

 **Chapter 8**

 **Sunday, September 30, 2007 -3:30pm –Wiehle-Reston Stop- Silver Line- Washington Area**

Zondra drove away from the Metro station. She looked in her rear-view mirror and caught a glimpse of Chuck disappearing into the Metro's entrance.

The drive back to Washington with him had been a mixture of things. Part of the drive had been quite enjoyable, Chuck had a great sense of humor, and he was sharp witted. Zondra clearly remembered herself start to relax as they talked.

However, there had been periods of silence because, in spite of what she'd promised Chuck … she wasn't a chatty person. She had a lot on her mind, and it often felt like her worries would overwhelm her.

She'd eventually steered the conversation around to Augusto and technical details about transmitters and how to detect them.

She pumped Chuck for information without telling him the context or the background.

The reasons for doing so were obvious to her; one, the CAT squad missions were classified; two, she had no objective reason to trust Chuck; and three, he'd told her he no longer worked for the NSA and was now looking for a job.

But Chuck wasn't anybody's fool. At one point he'd grown exasperated with her steady stream of questions. "Listen, Zondra, I understand all you field agents are enigmatic and cryptic, but I can't really help you unless you tell me the whole story."

Part of her wanted to confide in him. She could feel the pressure building within her to tell him what happened, but the agent part of her screamed at her, _'What! Are you mad, don't tell him!'_

Zondra had offered to drop him off at his apartment … but Chuck was adamant that dropping him off here at the Metro was fine. Finally, he volunteered he had some other things to do.

And so they parted company, both of them holding tightly onto their own secrets.

 **Monday, October 1, 2007 – 5pm- The Willard Hotel, Washington D.C**

 _Hi, my name is Chuck_ , _and here are some things you may not know._

 _Well, this has been an exhausting day. I'm not sure exactly where to start. Let me collect my thoughts or you're going to get an epic ramble from me._

 _Okay, maybe I should dial the clock back to 8:30am._

 _I'd already booked a small conference room for the four of us. I even went the extra mile and ordered coffee and those little Danish pastries (…..the most expensive pastries on the planet, given what the hotel charged me for them.)_

 _John Casey came into the lobby first. He was wearing a dark blue suit, similar to the one he wore when I first met him, three years ago in Burbank. I wasn't sure whether he'd greet me or punch me._

 _His opening salutation made his mood clear. "Well, Bartowski, that's two meetings you've ducked, one with me and one with my boss. If it was up to me_ , _I'd forget you ever existed. God only knows why the General still wants to hire you."_

 _He looked around the Willard, taking in the surroundings and all the people coming and going._

 _"_ _Let's get this three ring circus of yours started and hopefully finished quickly. And you'd better accept the NSA offer."_

 _I'd heard about this particular negotiating style, I think it had been perfected by 'Attila the Hun'._

 _Before I could really answer him, Carina walked into the lobby and the male traffic slowed to a crawl. Some minor rear end collisions were noticeable as people bumped into each other. There was rubber necking and gawking._

 _Her long_ , _reddish-brown hair nestled nicely on an ivory colored turtleneck. The slim fitting denim jeans with brown boots completed her casual but sexy look. I smiled at her … but she didn't smile back. 'Oh, oh, this is not going well.'_

 _She nodded to Casey and turned to me, giving me a rather stern look. "Chuckles, you've cost me a lot of sleep this last week." Then she gave me that dazzling smile. "We're going to have a lot of fun working together at the DEA." I'm still not sure why I did it, but I leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "Carina, if you call me 'Chuckles' one more time I don't think that's ever going to happen." I saw her eyes widen for a second. I think she was surprised that the 'mouse' roared._

 _But Carina is quick on her feet and her recovery was instantaneous. "Chuck, that won't be a problem going forward, trust me."_

 _She then turned to Casey. "You're wasting your time being here, Chuck hated working for the NSA."_

 _Before Casey could respond, Sarah Walker walked into the lobby and all male traffic ground to a sudden and complete halt._

 _She'd worn her hair down and was wearing a charcoal ensemble, a jacket, black blouse and a skirt that cut off just above the knees. She had a small pair of topaz earrings that perfectly matched the blue of her eyes. I didn't gulp, but some other men around me did._

 _She stopped in front of me. I managed to say hello in a neutral tone. Sarah matched my tone perfectly. She turned to the others._

 _"_ _Carina. Agent Casey, your reputation precedes you." Casey didn't miss a beat. "And yours, Agent Walker_ , _precedes you." They shook hands as equals._

 _I let the silence hang between us for a beat or two and then suggested we move into the conference room._

 _I'd wrestled all night with what I wanted, what they might want_ , _and I kept thinking about Ellie and how I might help her. I'm not sure if you know what it's like to be so grateful and so thankful to another human being, especially when that person is your sister. My desire to help Ellie in some small way was palpable._

 _I'd decided that there were three possible outcomes._

 _One, turn down all their offers of employment. In other words_ , _don't take the 'King's coin' and all that it entails; two, accept one of the offers, and take the 'King's coin'._

 _But that meant that two federal agencies_ , _and two agents, would be mildly pissed at me; finally, find a third way that gave me what I wanted and the federal agencies what they wanted. That would be difficult. I had a sense that the three agencies didn't play well together in the same 'sandbox'._

 _Everyone grabbed a coffee_ , _but only Casey and I had some of the expensive Danish pastries. They weren't worth the price._

 _I thanked them all for coming, which garnered a grunt from Casey and neutral expressions from Carina and Sarah, a tough crowd. I handed each of them the following one pager._

Proposal to Work for the US Intelligence Community.

Memorandum of Understanding

Charles (Chuck) I. Bartowski (CB) will enter into a three year contract to work with the DEA, NSA & CIA, as an independent contractor.

Agents Casey, Miller and Walker, as directed by their superiors, will mutually agree on the what, when, where and how CB's services, as a senior analyst / IT expert, will be employed.

Compensation

Annual compensation will be based on the OPM, schedule, grade 13, step 10. In lieu of benefits and pension a further 10% will be added.

Signing Bonus

At the time and date CB signs a contract, a $40,000 research grant to Dr. Eleanor F. Bartowski will be put in place and the funds sent.

Bonus

Each year, (on the anniversary of the contract signing), if CB has performed satisfactorily (assessment system to be mutually agreed upon, a further grant to Dr. Bartowski will be set up and paid out.

 _Each of them bent down and read what I'd prepared._

 _Sarah looked up first and flashed me what I think was a small smile, it disappeared a half-second later, when Casey looked up._

 _Casey wasn't happy. "Bartowski, what makes you think you're that valuable to us? This is bullshit. Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'you can't serve two masters, because you will learn to love the one and grow to hate the other'?_

 _I shot back, 'Casey, the last time I checked_ , _the same person pays all of your salaries.'_

 _Carina gave me an interesting look. A little hard to describe, a tinge of disappointment, a tiny flash of amusement and then back to the neutral look. I'm absolutely sure that she hides her complexity and intelligence behind a carefully crafted persona._

 _I then said, "Look, why don't I go back into the lobby and one of you come and get me when you've either agreed or can't agree. One more thing, I won' cut a deal with any single agency. I looked at Carina, then Casey and finally Sarah. "No matter how enticing, how forceful or exciting that offer may be._

 _"_ _So, if you or your bosses can't agree. I'll head back to Burbank tonight."_

 _Three hours later_ , _Carina came out into the lobby looking for me._

 _She sat down beside me on the sofa, male traffic near us, once again slowed down. "Chuck, you've missed a great opportunity to work with the DEA and me exclusively." She put her warm hand on top of mine, and I knew that twenty other men in the room were wishing they were me._

 _I stayed strong. "Carina, you know my terms."_

 _She sighed. "All right, Chuck, we've worked out a deal."_

 _She then reached into her pocket and pulled something out. She put a small gold key ring with a 'C' attached into my hand. "Please, take this back."_

 _I looked into her blue eyes and I just couldn't say no to her. So, I nodded and accepted back the gold key ring from her._

 _She stood up and held out her hand. "Come on Chuck, let's go back into the room and you can see what we've cooked up for you."_

 _So, here I am_ , _sitting in the lobby of the Willard on a Monday evening and it looks like I'm going to be working with Casey, Carina and Sarah, God help me. I'm going to be a very busy man for the next three years. What have I done?_

 _I think you're all caught up now._

 **One Month Later**

 **Ft. Mead, VA**

Chuck sat in the small conference room and waited for John Casey. He met with Casey once a week to go over his progress. Chuck just knew the 'big' guy was warming up to him, in a 'glacier-like' sense of the word.

Chuck Bartwoski hated wearing this damn blue suit and tie. But for what they were paying him, he figured he needed to comply with their rigid dress code. As soon as he'd signed the contract, they'd sent the $40,000 research grant to Ellie.

When he'd called Ellie ten minutes later, the high pitched squeal from Ellie told him all he needed to know.

The last month had gone by in a blur.

The deal that Casey, Carina and Sarah had worked out was for Chuck to be quickly brought up to speed on the latest 'Techie Toys' that the NSA possessed. Chuck loved the cornucopia laid out before him.

Chuck smiled. He'd seen surveillance and listening gadgets (some that looked like dragon flies), communications, encryption and satellite monitoring technology. He'd worked very hard and had absorbed a lot.

After they taught him, they tested him to see if he understood … and then they tested him again.

Chuck asked Casey to carve out time for him to meet with Jonathan Swinson (FININT). Jonathan had convinced Chuck from their previous meetings and chats that tracking the bad guys always came down to following the money. Jonathan had shown Chuck algorithms that had been developed to help spot 'questionable' transfers of money and ATM activity.

Chuck already had some ideas about how to improve the algorithms, but kept the ideas to himself for now.

They were long, ten hour days, then back to his little apartment on the base and another three hours of reading long into the night.

The door to the conference room opened and Casey filled the doorway.

He sat down without a word and slapped down a blue file with Chuck's name on it. "Well, Bartowski, I guess you're not as big a moron as I thought you were. The General is happy with your progress." He opened the file and flipped through it, then looked up.

"Okay, it looks like you can actually retain information inside that sieve you call a brain. That means you're only half as dangerous to a field agent as you were when you first came in here." Based on past conversations with the 'big guy', this conversation had been a really warm exchange or was it a warm monologue.

Chuck didn't like what was coming next. He remembered the plan the three agents had prepared for him back at the Willard, for his training.

Casey looked up. "A car will take you over to Langley. The CIA skirt is waiting for you ….. I asked her to teach you some basic self defense techniques. Maybe she'll accidentally kill you and save the government a ton of money."

Chuck looked up quickly. _What the hell, that wasn't in the plan?_ Chuck hoped Casey was baiting him and managed a weak smile in return.

{o}

 **Langley, VA- November 1** **st** **, 2007 -8:30am**

Sarah Walker was outwardly calm and in agent mode. She was wearing a conservative light blue pant suit. Her hair was down in order to soften her look.

She had Chuck Bartowski for the next month, and that thought led to her cheeks feeling slightly warm. She stopped the smile before it ever reached her lips.

Sarah reflected on their brief history together. The bad of it and some of the good.

She'd carefully managed things with Graham. She was surprised when she'd made her request to Graham. He agreed quickly, he was obviously distracted. She wondered if it had to do with the ultra secret 'Intersect project'. She'd called in other favors to make sure Chuck was in her total care.

Her plan called for Chuck to work with Tom Corrigan, Doug Cousins in Cyber Intelligence and then meet with her for an hour at the end of each day. The goal was to get Chuck Bartowksi ready to work with agents from the three agencies as a senior analyst, IT specialist and tech support 'guy'.

She'd read the NSA reports on Chuck. He'd scored in the top five percent and there was a request from the NSA Director of FININT for Chuck to be seconded to his department. Sarah frowned when she'd read the request. _Fat chance of that happening, get in line FININT. Request denied._

 **One Week Later**

Chuck felt a bit cramped sitting in Sarah's Porsche as it sped along Interstate 495.

He was feeling uneasy being alone for an entire evening with her. Sarah's suggestion yesterday, to go out and have a meal away from Langley, surprised him.

Their first week together had been okay. She'd arranged for him to meet some of the best people at the CIA. But he continued to be wary around her, especially when it was just the two of them.

Chuck behaved in one of two ways when he was around a beautiful woman, and Sarah was easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever met.

Usually, when he was in the presence of such beauty, he would get a little flustered and a touch tongue tied; often he would use his humor, hoping like mad the beautiful woman would understand and maybe even appreciate his sense of humor.

This time it was different.

Where on previous occasions all he would've seen was a gorgeous woman, on this occasion he saw both a stunningly beautiful woman and he also saw a 'shield maiden'. Those blue eyes drove him crazy. When they were warm he was hugely attracted to her, but when the blue color turned pale, more arctic and lost that warmth, he grew nervous.

Her beauty, for him, was masked by the fact he knew, without knowing any details, that she was a very dangerous woman. Someone not to be trifled with, and so he'd been exceedingly careful around her this last week. He'd clamped down on the jokes and his tendency to ramble. That was hard for him to do, because he was nervous around her.

The other thing that confused the hell out of him was … he looked forward to being one on one with her. So, now he was stuck, he wanted to be around her, to be with her, but when they were together he wasn't quite himself. There had been a number of times this last week when he'd wanted to reach out and touch her hand. What the hell was that about?

{o}

They were headed to a bistro that Sarah liked in Bethesda. He'd been surprised when she suggested they meet somewhere away from Langley. He wasn't exactly sure how to categorize this dinner meeting. It wasn't exactly a date. He was meeting with his CIA 'supervisor' to do ….what exactly?

He snuck a look across at her.

She'd told him to dress casually and to come hungry.

Chuck reflected on the week that had passed.

Sarah had welcomed him to Langley and in a very professional manner, laid out his training over the next month. It was a detailed plan. He quickly looked at the plan for any 'self-defense' training. There was none. Casey had been yanking his chain.

She'd made it very clear that she didn't want him calling her agent, unless they were in the company of a deputy-director or Director Graham himself. She continued to call him Chuck.

She drove the car at high speed with an easy confidence; he imagined she would make a great fighter pilot. He'd actually tried to brake once … even though the German engineers hadn't seen fit to put a brake pedal on his side of the car. Stupid oversight on their part.

She'd caught him pressing his foot down. "I can slow down Chuck … if this is too fast?" Chuck's reply wasn't as confident as he would've liked. "No, I'm a great believer in faster than light travel …. Warp away."

Sarah had only the faintest idea what 'warp away' meant, possibly Star Trek, Star Wars? Chuck did that sometimes, he made references to music and bits of trivia she wasn't aware of or only had a passing acquaintance with.

Sarah was a little nervous about this evening, but of course didn't show it. She nibbled the inside of her lip. The past week had been rewarding and maddening to her in equal measures. Sarah was attracted to this man, and each minute they spent together only increased that attraction.

The maddening thing was that too often Chuck was tightly wound and wary around her.

But when they were talking about what he'd learned with Tom and Doug Cousins he was animated, funny, with a boyish enthusiasm. His presence warmed the room and delighted her.

It didn't take a trained agent to realize that the echoes of their first disastrous meeting were still there, in his brain and in the rooms where they met each day. She knew what was wrong with him, she'd been the author of it, and now she had to figure out how to be the cure. Otherwise, she would lose her chance to get to know, and possibly be with, Chuck Bartowski.

 **Jaleo's Café, Bethesda**

Sarah got the table she wanted, tucked away from the other diners in a little alcove. She had views of the two entrances and the only exit. The waiter took their order and Chuck told her he was open to sharing a bottle of wine. He let Sarah select the wine. The waiter left a bottle of wine Sarah had ordered in French on the table.

Chuck pointed at it and said, "Is this a Bordeaux you've tried before?" Sarah knew Chuck didn't speak French, she asked him if he knew about French wines.

Chuck smiled and told her all he knew about wine was that a bottle of Bordeaux always had shoulders, that's why he recognized it. His comment was rewarded with smile.

Chuck reacted to the warm smile, matched by an equal warmth in her eyes. A sudden thought blossomed in his mind. Was Sarah attracted to him … _no your an idiot, get a grip Chuck_ ….it was probably just the lighting in the restaurant playing tricks with his eyes.

{o}

Sarah reflected on the past week.

Chuck had been a hit in the Cyber Intelligence Unit and they didn't want to let him go. She'd literally pulled him away from Doug Cousins to meet with Tom Corrigan.

Tom had been dying to meet Chuck in the flesh.

Sarah had met with Tom that evening and was eager to get his first impressions.

"Sarah, he has a lot to learn …. I mean about the CIA and the bloody politics around here. Until he learns that ….. he's like a little lamb romping through the green meadow … not aware of the wolves looking for their dinner."

Sarah already knew that. "I know Tom, that's why you and I need to look out for him. Keep him safe until he learns that Graham's green meadow isn't all that safe."

Tom smiled. "Sarah, he's very smart, quick witted, sees patterns, thinks laterally and has great recall. And he has a good sense of humor. Once you tell him something … it gets locked in."

Sarah waited for Tom to say something negative. Tom leaned forward. "He seems very empathetic, he'll go the extra mile for an agent … of that I've no doubt."

{o}

The conversation between them had been primarily about the past week and what was coming up for Chuck, next week.

Sarah was trained in how to keep a conversation going and keep the marks or asset engaged. In one sense it wasn't that hard, keep asking the person questions about themselves, find out what their interests were and seem attentive and interested as they talked.

Add a tiny bit of flattery, people loved to talk about themselves.

After ten or so minutes, the person would think you were the best listener in the world. A lot of it had to do with body language, the most important part of the conversation, far more important than words.

Chuck wasn't an asset, and he most certainly wasn't a mark. She didn't have to pretend to be interested. In fact, she was hanging on his every word.

As much as she knew about Chuck, it was only the tip of the iceberg. Chuck was a complex man. She quickly realized that, to a certain extent, he hid behind his humor, especially when he was nervous. Chuck's humor and wit was one of his attractive qualities. He made her feel lighter, somehow.

He was interested to know more about her. Sarah found herself it an exquisite dilemma. The agent in her knew that Chuck should learn nothing true about her. However, the human part of her, the woman, didn't want to build a mountain of lies between them. They already had some bad history, she didn't need to make it worse.

After he asked about where she grew up. Sarah sighed. "Chuck, I'm an agent and a lot of my life is hidden, not just from you … from almost everyone. My life and the life of my family might depend on me being a mystery, a cipher."

Chuck leaned back in his chair and she could sense him withdrawing. She knew he would shut down any further non-work conversations.

She made a decision that went against her training. She dearly hoped it wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass. But Sarah did not want to lose the connection she'd started making with Chuck, so she jumped in.

"Chuck, how about we strike a deal. Please ask me your questions, I'll try to answer them honestly. If I really can't … I'll say pass." Chuck leaned forward, he started to reconnect with her.

Sarah smiled at him. "One more thing, when I do answer your questions, I won't lie to you….. but sometimes I might have to disguise some of the facts, not to mislead you or change the truth of what happened ..but to protect people and myself …..deal?" Sarah put her hand out to shake on the deal.

Chuck hesitated because he would have to trust that Sarah wasn't just outright lying to him. Sarah's hand hovered over the little candle in the middle of their table.

Chuck put his hand out. "'Deal," he gave her an impish smile.

"Okay, Sarah, did you love going to high school … or did you hate it."

Sarah almost snorted her wine as she was sipping it. She cleared her throat and immediately regretted their deal. An open ended question, she hated open ended questions.

After another big sip of wine before she started in a soft voice. "Chuck, I hated high school …. I won't tell you where I went … but I was an ugly duckling and …."

{o}

Sarah dropped Chuck off at an apartement in Maclean, VA.

The evening with Chuck had been unique and memorable. She'd told him about her feelings about high school. She'd hadn't told him where she went or that she'd gone by the name Jenny Burton . Chuck was a great listener and had volunteered that being a nerd in his school had not been the easiest journey.

At one point in her story, he'd interrupted. "Sarah, you promised me you wouldn't outright lie to me…there is no possible way you could've been the ugly duckling in your high school." Sarah had assured him that was the honest truth.

{o}

They both sat quietly in the car that was parked in front of his apartment building. Before Chuck could speak, Sarah spoke up, her tone carrying a serious and sad quality to it. "Chuck, next week I've booked us to see the CIA psychologist and therapist."

Chuck looked stunned. "A therapist, why do I need to see a shrink?"

Sarah looked at him steadily, her blue eyes showing concern and sadness. "Chuck, I think you might be suffering from some PTSD. Do you know what that is?"

Chuck was confused and upset. "Of course I know what it is… but I'm not suffering from PTSD …. I would know … and I'm fine?"

Sarah hated to have to talk about this. "Chuck, our first meeting was ….it was … a disaster. I'm hypersensitive around you … because ….If, I go to touch you suddenly or look angry at you… you tense up. Once you even flinched."

Chuck felt his throat tighten. "I was just surprised when I flinched, uhhh, you caught me off guard. And by the way, sometimes you have a look that can be really scary."

Sarah knew denial when she saw it. "Chuck, if you don't go to therapy with me.. then ….. I'll have to assign another agent to work with you. I can't work with someone who …who is like a cat on a hot tin roof. I need you to trust me... not to be frightened of me."

Chuck's anger allowed his inside voice to escape before he could stop it. "Well, maybe if you hadn't scared the shit out of me in that damn interrogation room of yours …and ..and showed me that fracking knife … I wouldn't be frightened of you."

The silence in the car hung like a wet blanket, heavy and uncomfortable.

Chuck was angry, but he had no doubt that Sarah Walker would carry through with her threat. She would walk out of his life ….. and that was the very last thing in the world he wanted to happen.

Considering how she'd treated him back then, he wasn't sure why he was so desperate to stay connected to her. There was something about her that just kept drawing him back in.

Chuck opened the door and got out. He stood there for five or six seconds. "Sarah, I think you're wrong about this PTSD stuff … but, okay, I'll go to see the CIA shrink with you. "Good night."

Sarah watched him walk up the pathway to his apartment building. He looked back at her briefly before disappearing from sight.

 **A/N-** The next four chapters will be the final arc of this story. A serious mission and a hastily put together team are in the offing.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N- I've been travelling, please excuse the delay in posting this chapter. It is a privilege for me to read your comments and PMs. Thank you michaelfmx for editing and your valued input.

 _And there she lullèd me asleep,_

 _And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—_

 _The latest dream I ever dreamt_

 _On the cold hill side._

 _-_ _ **John Keats**_

 **McLean, VA- November 11** **th** **, 2007 -10:25am –**

 **6682 Elm St, Practice of Dr. Branwen Owens**

Dr. Owens worked here, at her official office, two days a week. At first glance her office was similar to the other four psychologists and two psychiatrists who had thriving clinical practices close to the three main hospitals in the area.

The nickname for this stretch of clinics and hospitals on Elm St. was 'Agony Alley'

The key differences between her office and the others were, her office was checked daily by a retired CIA tech specialist, for bugs; it had special 'security' windows and the electronic locks on her door and file system were a B & E man's worst nightmare.

Some of her colleagues wondered how Dr. Owens could possibly afford the high rent by just working two days a week. The reason was simple, three days a week she worked out of another office at Langley.

Her known specialty areas were PTSD and addictions. There was one area of expertise her colleagues never suspected, 'agent burnout'. She'd been working on or off for the CIA for fifteen years. Mac Showers, the former director, had recruited her after they met at a John Hopkins fund raiser.

Mac's retirement opened the door for Langston Graham to take over. She'd soon grown to dislike the man. He had little respect for doctor/patient confidentiality. They'd argued a dozen times about what she'd share with him and the agency and what she wouldn't.

He'd fired her twice.

Each time he'd had to reluctantly bring her back because a number of his senior field agents trusted only her and refused to see the other CIA psychologists. The senior agents knew that she wasn't an unthinking bureaucratic stooge who would pass some of the dark things they'd shared with her onto Graham.

Branwen was straight with the field agents, before she agreed to start any sort of therapy with them.

If they were a danger to themselves or to their partners …then she would tell them their days as a field agent were numbered. But Branwen would always give them the chance to go to the Director and request a desk job or retirement. If they refused to act, then, and only then, she'd make her recommendation directly to the Director, without revealing the detailed reasons why.

Dr. Branwen Owens had thus far always kept her word and never revealed the details of any of her sessions. If Langston Graham didn't like the way she did her job, then he could fire her ass, again. She longed for the days when Mac Showers was in charge of the CIA.

{o}

Branwen had been more than surprised when Agent Walker had called her out of the blue and asked her to see someone called Charles Bartowski.

After she'd listened to Agent Walker's thumbnail sketch of what she thought the problem was, Branwen had told Agent Walker that she would need to see both of them.

Agent Walker had protested at first, saying, 'I'm fine, he's the one who needs the help'. Branwen had responded, "Either I see you both… or you can go to somebody else." Branwen knew that Agent Walker didn't trust any of the other CIA psychologists.

Agent Walker finally acquiesced and they set up two sessions.

Walker had also asked to meet away from Langley. Branwen agreed but found her last request somewhat intriguing. Branwen almost laughed out loud about her reflections, there was always intrigue surrounding field agents. It followed them like a swarm of black flies.

Usually she saw Sarah Walker once a year for her mandatory sit down, as required by the agency. Sarah Walker was a walking fortress of closely held feelings and some very unpleasant memories. But once a year, Sarah Walker was required to lower the draw bridge and let Branwen take a peek into her fortifications.

Branwen never got too far, just far enough to make her assessment and certify that Agent Sarah Walker was able to continue her 'work'.

Dealing with the agents involved in 'wet work' was far and away the most difficult and complex work Branwen undertook for the CIA.

There was always a clock ticking inside the heads of the agency's assassins. Cold blooded murder was not a ticket to 'happy valley'.

No sane person could continue to accumulate blood on their hands and not be changed by it. Some lasted longer than others at the job. Some fell apart before she could help them. Some went rogue and became contract killers for hire. In their new mercenary life, they would kill until they were in turn killed.

She tried to let the agents know when their personal clock was at five minutes to midnight. Time to do something different, time to get off the crazy making merry-go-round.

It was easy for her to spot the sociopaths. The agency did a good job of filtering out the psychopaths at the interview stage. She rarely saw either of that sort in her practice. It was harder to spot the ones whose soul and psyche had been corroded so much that they were ready to snap; or had grown so numb by the work that they were like automatons.

Sarah Walker's assassin clock was ticking but she hadn't reached five minutes to midnight. At least not the last time Branwen had seen her. She wondered how she would find Agent Sarah Walker this time.

{o}

Dr. Owens checked her notes from the session CB & SW had with her two days ago.

Chuck Bartowski (CB) was an independent contractor, working for CIA/NSA/DEA. He was currently being trained and Agent Walker (SW) was his supervisor. CB & SW met on a previous occasion that had 'started off on the wrong foot'- _'SW's words'._

At their first session, Branwen had asked them to simply tell her the story of what had happened. She then asked CB and SW to describe their current working relationship and how the past might be affecting their current working relationship.

Her process was to ask one of them to talk while the other person listened, without any interruptions.

The first session, two days ago, lasted fifty minutes.

Dr. Owens was interested in all that was happening in the room. The words they spoke were important, but it was the body language, all the micro movements, an arched eyebrow, a tiny frown or a barely visible clenching of the jaw.

Every person had their 'tells'.

The eyes were the windows to the soul. Branwen had tracked the eye movements for both of them carefully.

SW was a master of controlling her visage. CB was transparent in comparison to SW.

Branwen smiled to herself, SW wasn't as inscrutable as she might believe, at least not around CB. She checked her notes again.

She looked up at the clock, sat up straight … time to call them in, CB & SW were in for a tough ride over the next ninety minutes.

 **Session 2, with CB & SW**

Chuck wasn't sure what to expect this time. The first session had been rather disappointing, he'd been expecting to meet someone who could look into his eyes and tell him his darkest fears and deepest secrets, someone who was a combination of Freud, Jung and Skinner, a 'giant' of the psychological world.

Dr. Owens was relaxed, even laid back. She managed to get Chuck and Sarah to tell her 'their story', with a minimum of questions. Chuck smiled because, as the session went on, he became more relaxed, talking about what had happened, and Sarah had become more guarded, almost defensive. He estimated that he probably said ten words for every word that Sarah had reluctantly shared.

{o}

Sarah had dressed casually for this session, a sweater and jeans. She'd braided her hair and part of the braid rested on her left shoulder. She looked across at Chuck. He was wearing a Lord of the Rings T-shirt, _What the hell is a white wizard_? , a light windbreaker and jeans. His chestnut colored hair was curling at the edges.

She had a fleeting thought about reaching up and rearranging some of his curls. The next thought was what might he look like in an Armani Tux?

She firmly pushed those thoughts out of her head.

She trusted Dr. Owens more than the other psychologists, but she always found people like her to be a necessary evil.

Sarah had found the first session very difficult. She hadn't expected to be involved in any of these sessions. She was just trying to get Chuck some help for his PTSD. She was fine. But Dr. Owens had forced the issue and so … here she was sitting through another therapy session.

Two days ago, when Dr. Owens had turned to her and asked her to speak, Sarah told her side of the story and told it accurately, as if she was giving an official report, every word was carefully selected before she spoke it out loud.

She wanted to help Chuck so she'd been forthright, and told Dr. Owens what had happened between them, including hitting and kidnapping him and showing him the knife. She also shared that her motivation was to save a DEA agent's life.

Sarah told Dr. Owens how impressed she'd been with Chuck's help in finding Carina. She related how the HRT had rescued Carina just in the nick of time. Chuck was the difference maker, without him they would've arrived there too late.

Sarah knew that Dr. Owens' apparently relaxed demeanor was anything but. Dr. Owens noticed everything that was going on in the room. Sarah had been positive that she'd put on a perfect mask and given away very few physical tells. Chuck, however, had been much more animated and emotional in telling 'their story'. He was an open book compared to her.

{o}

Dr. Owens opened the door, exactly at 10:30am and invited them both into the room. Sarah noticed at once that the room had been organized differently. The couch had been moved to one side, as had Dr. Owen's chair.

There were two other empty chairs, facing each other, sitting in the middle of the room.

Dr. Owens indicated they should sit down on the couch. Chuck sat on the left side and Sarah sat on the right side. There was a large space between them. Dr. Owens sat down and for several seconds there was an awkward silence.

Dr. Owens smiled at both of them. "So, how are you?" Chuck looked at Sarah and she looked back at him. Sarah nodded to Chuck.

"Ahh, I guess I'm supposed to start. I'm fine.. I guess. I'm curious about what's going to happen next. I mean, I thought we'd kind of covered everything at our last session." Chuck actually thought that this meeting was a waste of his time.

Branwen smiled at him. "Not quite Chuck." She turned to Sarah. "Tell me how you're feeling Sarah?" Sarah wanted to shake her head. _Another one of those annoying open ended questions_. "I'm fine, thank you." A typical Sarah Walker answer, no wasted syllables.

She turned to Chuck. "Chuck, you talked about what happened in Burbank, what happened afterwards? It's been almost three months."

Chuck had his arms crossed across his chest. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Have you ever dreamt about what happened in Burbank?"

Sarah quickly turned her head to look at Chuck. Branwen caught the flash of concern and curiosity in her eyes.

Chuck's eyes grew wide because he'd had some dreams. "Ahh…yes."

"Tell me about them?" Chuck looked over at Sarah and then back at Branwen. He looked a little flustered. Branwen leant forward and waited. The silence went on for a whole minute.

Chuck changed his position on the couch. "Ahh, well they were about Sarah. We're standing in front of each other in the interrogation room."

Sarah felt the knot in her stomach.

"I'm asking her why she's so angry at me….I'm..yes …I'm upset."

Branwen asked gently. "Tell me more about being upset."

Chuck rubbed his forehead. "Well, I'm angry at first and then I'm sad…then…I'm shouting at her."

"Do you remember what you were shouting at Sarah?"

Chuck looked over at Sarah. "I'm…..I'm asking her why she doesn't trust me.?…..but she doesn't say anything…she just has that look in her eyes. You know, when the color changes and the room seems to get colder. Ahhh, that's one of the dreams."

Sarah clearly remembered Chuck asking her that question in the interrogation room, after she'd cut him loose. He stood in front of her and the absolute sincerity of his question and the hurt look in his eyes had floored her.

Branwen pressed Chuck. "Does the dream cause you to wake up? Do you have trouble going back to sleep?"

"No, I don't wake up. I mean, I'm uncomfortable in the dream, but the dream morphs into something else, something more pleasant. I'm usually with Ellie, Devon or Morgan ….. I don't remember any details."

"Have you had this same dream on other nights?"

"Yes, maybe five or six times."

Branwen waits. "Are there other dreams that involve Sarah?" Chuck blushes. "Yes, but….ahh, not scary dreams. Not…not….about the interrogation."

Sarah needed every bit of her training and self-control not to turn her whole body towards him.

Branwen cleared her throat. "Sarah…" Sarah was caught unawares and blinked, then refocused on Dr. Owens.

Branwen smiled to herself. _Gottcha, Agent Walker._

"Sarah, tell me about what happened to you after, I think you called it 'the mistake', in Burbank."

Sarah was back in control. "I went on missions, I kept doing my job." Chuck glanced at Sarah and pursed his lips.

Branwen angled her head and looked at Sarah. "Sarah, I wonder if you thought about what happened in the interrogation room, with Chuck. Have you had any dreams that involved Chuck?"

Sarah wanted to leave the room. She could just get up and leave, this was too damn hard. "Yes, I thought about what happened. I've told Chuck, several times, it was a mistake. I've tried to make amends. I wish it hadn't happened."

"Any dreams?" Sarah lied easily. "No, I haven't had any dreams that involved Chuck." Chuck looked away from Sarah towards the window.

Branwen and Sarah instantly exchanged a look. They both knew Sarah was lying.

Dr. Owens then indicated with her hand the two chairs sitting in the middle of the room.

She now firmly believed that Chuck wasn't suffering from classic PTSD. He wasn't waking up in the middle of the night with bad dreams or night sweats. But it was obvious Sarah had scared him badly, and it was also obvious he was strongly attracted to her.

Chuck was finding it difficult to make sense of his feelings and impossible to integrate the two feelings. Sarah Walker, on the other hand, was wanting to heal the wrong she'd done. But she also didn't want to leave the safety of her 'fortress' and reveal any of her true feelings. She was stuck.

Branwen, stood up and walked to the side of one of the empty chairs. "Chuck, I wonder if you could stand up here beside me. Chuck reluctantly stood up, his thoughts clear even though they were unspoken. _What the hell are you doing here?_

Branwen changed her position so she could see Chuck and Sarah at the same time. "Chuck, I'd like you to imagine that we're back in the interrogation room. Sarah is seated in this chair and over there is where you were sitting." Chuck mumbled, "You mean tied up….uhh…okay?"

"Tell me what you're feeling as you look over at yourself tied to the chair."

Chuck very hesitantly talked about how his fear had increased as Sarah basically accused him of being with Fulcrum, then being angry at why he was being treated this way. He'd done nothing wrong.

In a soft voice, he said, "When she pulled the knife and I looked down at the drain….that's when I lost hope."

Branwen was carefully watching Chuck to see if he was disassociating, he wasn't. She was also keeping one eye on Sarah.

Sarah wanted to squirm in her seat, she didn't. She wanted to leave the room, she didn't. She stayed rooted to the chair. She wanted to say something to Chuck, she couldn't.

Branwen had to hand it to Sarah, she was good at masking her emotions and controlling her body language. But her eyes were locked onto Chuck and her nostrils had flared when he said he'd lost hope.

Branwen moved closer to him. "Chuck, was there another time when you felt like that, losing hope?"

Chuck looked over at the empty chair and said. "Yes, when I was twelve."

Branwen took three steps and grabbed another chair. She placed it behind the empty chair representing where Chuck had been sitting in the interrogation room. She gently moved Chuck to the chair in the past, when he was twelve.

"Chuck, could you tell us about the other time you lost hope?"

Chuck needed to support himself, his knees felt a little shaky. He leaned forward and put his hands on the back of the chair. Chuck's need to support himself didn't go unnoticed by Sarah.

"It was when my dad walked out on me and Ellie. He..he..said he was just going to the store. Ellie and I raced each other to set the table and got everything ready for him to make us pancakes. We waited for five hours. Finally, I looked at Ellie and without us saying one single word to each other… we both knew he'd disappeared... again. I think Ellie realized it before I did, that this time he wasn't coming back. We'd been abandoned." Chuck swallowed twice. "As it turns out…Ellie was right...he never came back."

Sarah felt the lump form in her throat. Feelings deeply buried within her started to stir. She pushed them down and struggled to stay composed.

Chuck's eyes were moist and he'd clenched his jaw. He stood up and Branwen could see his hands had been balled up into fists. Branwen saw that and she also saw Sarah's reaction, the agent's mask had slipped away.

Branwen waited for Chuck to collect himself. "Chuck, when you were talking about your dad leaving you and Ellie, I saw in my mind's eye, Sarah get up, walk across the room and stand beside you."

Even though Sarah hadn't moved an inch from the couch, she knew Branwen had spoken the truth. Her eyes grew moist and Sarah chided herself, _don't cry, not here, not now_. She managed to hold the tears back.

She understood about being abandoned, about those you love betraying you. Dr. Owens was right, she wanted to get up, to stand beside Chuck, to take his hand and tell him she understood how he felt.

Chuck was still choked with his feelings, he hated thinking about his dad leaving. He was stunned at Dr. Owens comment about Sarah, standing beside him. He looked across at her to see if it was true.

Sarah gave Chuck the tiniest nod of her head and her blue eyes were the color of a warm ocean.

Branwen took all this in. She knew what she wanted to do next. "Chuck, why don't you sit down back on the couch?"

Chuck walked over to the couch and, interestingly enough, didn't go back to the far side of the couch, instead choosing to sit a little bit closer to Sarah.

Branwen walked across the room to the other chair. "Sarah, would you please join me here?"

Sarah felt like her legs and feet were encased in cement. She didn't want to get up. She surreptitiously glanced at the door, briefly considering bolting while she still had the chance. But with a Herculean effort she stood up, walked across the room and stood beside Dr. Owens.

"Sarah, this is where Chuck was sitting in the interrogation room. Is there anything you would like to say to Chuck …. If you could turn back the clock?"

Chuck moved until he was on the edge of the couch. For a number of seconds the only sound was a steady tick, tock of a carriage clock on Dr. Owens desk. Branwen wasn't sure what was going to happen, part of her expected Sarah Walker to turn on her heels and walk out the door. She'd done it before.

At first Sarah's mind was empty, everything was a blank. Finally, thoughts and feelings flooded in.

She cleared her throat. "I.. I would like to tell Chuck that I'm worried sick about Carina. She's my only friend…my only real friend….I can't stand the thought of her dying."

"I would tell Chuck, back in Burbank, that he confuses me. I can't make up my mind about him. At first, I didn't think he's with Fulcrum, we captured him too easily with little resistance. But then there's the CCTV footage and the flash drive. Is he a good guy or is he with Fulcrum? I need to know… Carina's life depends on the decision I make about him."

Branwen saw Sarah change her focus from the empty chair over to Chuck sitting on the couch. She put her arm very softly on Sarah's hand. "Sarah, do you want to say something to Chuck, in the present?"

Sarah nodded. Branwen suggested to Sarah she go back and sit on the couch. Sarah sat down and turned towards Chuck.

When Sarah started talking again, it wasn't the cool alto voice, now it was rich with emotion. "Chuck, I don't hurt good people, I think…no, I know.. you're a good person."

Sarah had her hands clasped together. " I know I frightened you half to death. I wish we'd met under different circumstances. I'm truly sorry…I mean…I wish I could've instantly trusted you. Carina's life was on the line…" Sarah's voice trailed away.

Branwen thought Sarah might be finished. But she hesitantly started again. "Chuck, I do trust you now. I want you to know that I will never, ever hurt you... I know I have a temper… but you need to know that I can be angry at you ..and at the same time still care about you."

Everyone in the room, including Sarah, was surprised by her last comment.

Chuck heard the, '..still care about you.' He felt the warmth on his neck and his cheeks burned. Sarah couldn't believe that she'd actually said that out loud and wanted to be angry with herself, but she wasn't. It'd had felt amazing to say it out loud.

Dr. Branwen Owens now knew for certain that Sarah Walker, the walking 'fortress' of repressed feelings, was perhaps on the verge of lowering the drawbridge for a tall, lanky, brown eyed man.

She spent the next five minutes talking about what had happened. She explained to Chuck that he had experienced more than his share of betrayal and abandonment. She also told him that he possessed great empathy and his relationship with his sister had been an immense source of strength to him.

She concluded with, "Chuck, you'll be happy to know that you aren't suffering from PTSD. However, you and Sarah need to spend some non-work time together. Gradually, I believe you'll be less tense and hyper sensitive around each other. At the moment you're both walking on egg shells when you're with each other.

Branwen looked at Sarah, then at Chuck. "I also suspect that there is more than just a working relationship going on here."

"You both obviously care for each other, but are having trouble being up front with each other. Considering the way your first meeting went, that's understandable."

Branwen paused waiting for her words to sink in.

"You both have to decide what you want to do about it. You can't leave it hanging in mid-air."

Sarah and Chuck looked at each other. Branwen noticed that, when Sarah had returned to her seat on the couch, she'd sat a little closer to him. They were now separated by only six inches.

 **Forty minutes later**

 **Manassas Battle Field, VA**

Chuck had suggested that they come here, when they got back into the car. There was a nice walking trail down towards Sudley Springs. Sarah had never been here, the last thing she needed in her life was to be around a place where thousands had lost their life and a thousand ghosts might be hanging around. There were enough ghosts in her life.

But she and Chuck really needed to talk to each other, so she'd said yes.

They'd only managed to say a handful of words to each other on the drive over to Manassas. Chuck wanted to say a hundred things to her, but held himself back. Sarah noted how quiet Chuck was and concentrated on driving.

As they walked down towards Sudley Springs they heard the burbling of the water over the rocks grow louder. All the leafs had now fallen from the trees. Chuck finally worked up enough courage. "Sarah, is it true that… you're…I mean, what's going on here between us …is more than just a work thing."

Sarah stopped walking and looked him in the eye. "Yes, it's more than just a work thing….."

Chuck smiled, his sense of humor was on the rise. "Well, if you're sure you won't punch me, kidnap me and tie me up….maybe in the evenings we can try doing non-work things together. After all, I've got two more weeks before I go over to the DEA for 'Carina' training."

Chuck hesitated. "I mean if you're free in the evenings, maybe you're already , ahhh… encumbered."

Sarah laughed softly, Chuck was fishing for information. "As it happens, my evenings are free and, to use your phrase, I'm unencumbered."

 **Two Days Later-CIA Cafeteria, Langley, VA –Noon**

Chuck was a million miles away. He hadn't touched his egg salad sandwich or the big Java orange sitting on his tray. He was supposed to meet Sarah for lunch, but it looked like she was running late. So, he waited, and his mind wandered back to last night.

They'd gone to a movie last night.

{o}

 _You might think picking a movie to go and see would've been easy. It wasn't, in fact it proved enormously difficult. When they sat down and looked at what was playing, Sarah eliminated anything to do with espionage, any movies with a high body count and documentaries about conspiracies._

 _When Chuck looked at the diminishing list of films they might go to see, Sarah smiled at him and said, "Chuck, I want an escape from my reality…I don't want to see a Hollywood script writer's version of the life I live."_

 _So, they chose, 'Lars and The Real Girl'._

 _The movie was about an extremely shy young man who lives in a small Swedish town. He lives in the garage attached to his brother's house. Lars creates for himself_ _, a 'make believe girlfriend', named Bianca. Lars' brother and the people of the small town go along with his delusion about the 'make believe girlfriend'._

 _The film was in essence about Lars moving away from his intense shyness, moving away from a make believe girlfriend into the society of real people and eventually a real girlfriend._

 _Sarah loved and hated the movie. This was the first movie she'd gone to with someone else, who wasn't a fellow agent, a mark, an asset or someone she was going to kill. She'd loved sitting beside him and sharing the experience of watching this bittersweet movie._

 _She reflected on the 'make believe' girl, Bianca, in the movie. It wasn't lost on her that Sarah Walker wasn't her real name. In her short life time she'd adopted the persona of dozens of made up girls and women, none of them had been real. Was it possible to become a real woman, someone who could connect with a very real man._

 _Sarah had been quiet when they came out of the theatre and Chuck wasn't sure whether she'd liked it or hated it._

 _He looked over at Sarah. "I'd like to invite you back to my apartment but…I'm …uhh…not sure if Bianca would be happy about that."_

 _Sarah started to laugh, it was a warm laugh that made her eyes light up. "Chuck, I speak Swedish, Bianca and I will get along famously. Trust me."_

 _Sarah had gone back to Chuck's apartment. They'd shared some cognac that Chuck found in the fully furnished CIA apartment and to his surprise a well-stocked drinks cabinet._

 _Sarah had waited for Chuck to sit down on the sofa first. He went to one end._

 _She sat down about six inches away from him and curled up her legs and feet so she could face towards him. There was a lull in their conversation that stretched out for two or three minutes._

 _Sarah gave Chuck an intense look. "Chuck, you know we've looked into your background." Chuck narrowed his eyes but wasn't upset, he knew the CIA would do that._

 _She put her drink down on the side-table. "Chuck, I'm almost certain that you didn't cheat at Stanford_ , _in fact I think someone set you up."_

 _Sarah, didn't volunteer that it was his roommate. She couldn't bring herself to tell him she in fact knew it was Bryce Larkin, her ex-partner and lover_ , _who'd set Chuck up and got him expelled. What she still wasn't clear about was, why had Bryce done it?_

 _Chuck nodded. "Thank you for believing me. I..I'm…not sure who set me up, or more importantly_ , _why someone hated me enough to get me kicked out." Chuck drained his brandy snifter. "Anyways, it's done, nothing I can do about it." Sarah thought otherwise, something could be done about it, something should be done about it._

 _Sarah changed the subject and reminded Chuck about their busy day tomorrow and left soon after._

{o}

Chuck was getting hungry. He decided to give Sarah another five minutes.

Zondra was preparing for another low-level, 'no one really gives a damn mission'. She'd gone to the cafeteria and grabbed a bowl of soup and a roll. As she looked for an empty table she spotted Chuck Bartowski. _What the hell was he doing here?_

Chuck looked up and locked eyes with Zondra, both of them with a wide eyed stare.

Her intense brown eyes found equally dark chocolate eyes looking back. "Chuck, I thought you were out of the intelligence business. Do you work here?"

Chuck indicated with his hand that she should sit down. "How's this for a confusing answer. Yes and No."

Zondra laughed. "Okay, Chuck, congratulations, a perfect answer for someone working at the CIA."

Chuck briefly explained that he was an independent contractor. His actual contract was with the CIA/NSA/DEA. He was working at the moment with a CIA supervisor and was still in training mode.

{o}

Sarah's meeting with Tom Corrigan had taken longer than expected. Tom had narrowed down the list of elite hackers who probably lived in North American. There were six names on the list. Tom had ranked them in order of their importance to the CIA; first was Orion; then Themis; next Piranha; the bottom three were Perses, Cronus and Pallas.

None of them had been caught. They CIA and the NSA hadn't even come close to nabbing them.

She was certain, beyond a shadow of doubt, that Chuck had not been caught by the FBI hacking into a federal website. He was too damn good.

It fit perfectly with what she now knew about Chuck that he would sacrifice three years of his life to protect his best friend Morgan. He was that kind of man.

Sarah entered the cafeteria, grabbed a tray, some soup and a salad.

She spotted Chuck talking to a woman. She could see only the woman's back, but from every appearance she was a brunette, _damn!_ Sarah had less than two weeks left with Chuck before she had to hand him over to Carina and the DEA.

She wasn't happy having to share him with a good looking brunette. As she got closer the woman turned towards her.

"Zondra!"

"Sarah!"

Chuck smiled. "Oh, you guys know each other, that's great."

The word great had barely escaped Chuck's lips when he knew something was seriously wrong. The instantaneous change in Sarah and Zondra once they saw each other made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

An image popped into his mind of a Bengal Tiger and an African Lioness accidentally meeting. Zondra had stood up and the two women glared at each other. The air around them almost crackled with negative energy.

 **A/N-** Working on the next chapter, I won't leave you in suspense too long.


	10. Chapter 10

**_A/N-_** A little bit of a delay. Good news, my pilgrimage to Scotland has ceased. I'm a little behind in responding to the reviews and PMs. I absolutely appreciate getting them, so thank you. A big thankyou to michaelfmx for editing and suggestions. I don't own Chuck, I do own a mandolin, seems a fair bargain to me.

 _I saw pale kings and princes too,_

 _Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;_

 _They cried—'La Belle Dame sans Merci_

 _Hath thee in thrall!'_

 _-John Keats_

***'Fagin' .. a little Dickens to lighten your day.

 ** _From Chapter 9_**

 _Sarah grabbed some soup and a salad. She spotted Chuck talking to a woman. She could see only the woman's back, but from every appearance she was a beautiful brunette, damn! Sarah had less than two weeks left with Chuck before she had to hand him over to Carina and the DEA._

 _She wasn't happy having to share him with a good looking brunette. As she got closer the woman turned towards her._

 _"_ _Zondra!"_

 _"_ _Sarah!"_

 _Chuck smiled. "Oh, you guys know each other, that's great."_

 _The word great had barely escaped Chuck's lips when he knew something was seriously wrong. The instantaneous change in Sarah and Zondra once they saw each other made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up._

 _An image popped into his mind of a Bengal Tiger and an African Lioness accidentally meeting. Zondra had stood up and the two women glared at each other. The air around them almost crackled with negative energy._

 **November 13, 2007-CIA Cafeteria, Langley, VA –Noon**

Without taking her eyes of Zondra, Sarah hurled a question at Chuck. "What is she doing here, how do you know her?"

Chuck stood up and towered over them.

Against his better survival instincts he moved into the neutral space between them. "Ahh….six months ago… I worked with Zondra, just the one time,….you know, when all the agencies were directed to make Federal parks and sites safe."

Sarah took a half step back and the tension went down one tiny little notch. "Let's go Chuck."

She didn't want Chuck to be around Zondra and she was furiously thinking about what she was going to tell him about her. She sure the hell wasn't going to start talking about the CAT squad with him.

Chuck didn't move, he was stuck. The tiled floor felt like someone had put super glue on it.

Part of his 'stuckness' was because he was confused about the obvious animosity between Sarah and Zondra; he wanted to know more. Chuck's off the chart intelligence was matched only by his curiosity. He loved solving mysteries.

The other reason he was stuck was because he didn't like Sarah ordering him around as if he was some Helot from ancient Sparta. The tone in her voice when she'd ordered him 'to go' was similar to the tone she'd used in the interrogation room back in Burbank; that thought rankled him.

Zondra noticed Chuck's hesitation. She realized that this might be her only opportunity to get Sarah's attention. Zondra looked at Sarah and then closely at Chuck. What was going on between the two of them?

Chuck Bartowski was the person who'd given her hope. The hope that one day she'd be able to prove Amy was the real traitor. She blurted out in a whisper so that only Sarah and Chuck could hear her. "Chuck's found proof that "A" is the traitor. Ask him!"

Sarah couldn't believe her ears. _How the hell would Chuck know about the inner workings of the CAT squad? Had Zondra broken all the rules about confidentiality and told him about what had happened? How close were the two of them? The fingers of jealousy increased their grip on her._

Sarah had always been suspicious of Zondra,. She'd betrayed the CAT squad, that was a venial sin. However, in comparison to betraying their friendship, that seemed like a pittance. Betraying their friendship….THAT was a mortal sin in Sarah's mind.

There was a time, a time before Zondra's betrayal, when Sarah was as close to Zondra as she'd been to Carina.

She had very few friends. It took a lot of work and time to overcome her natural suspicion of people. That suspicion, that inability to trust another person, had been honed and refined as she lived the life of a con woman with her father.

Jack Burton ended up playing a 'Fagin' like role in Sarah's life. She became his 'Artful Dodger'. Langston Graham took over the care of Jack Burton's 'Artful Dodger'. He led her carefully and slowly down roads that were new, exciting but became darker with the passing of time.

When Sarah Walker allowed you in as a friend, you needed to treat that friendship as a sacred trust. Zondra's betrayal of that friendship cut deep, right to the bone. When Sarah determined that Zondra was the traitor, she masked her hurt feelings, _Spies don't get hurt_ _feelings._ Sarah did allow herself to feel angry, very angry.

At this particular moment, she was also angry at Chuck. He should keep his nose out of her business, who the hell did he think he was?

Zondra put her tray down on the table. She stood beside Chuck and gave Sarah a pleading look. "Sarah, give me five minutes, that's all I ask. Then….if…you still hate me that much…we'll go our separate ways. We'll never talk again."

Sarah looked at Chuck.

He saw the cold artic blue blazing from her eyes. He knew that anger wasn't directed at him and didn't get flustered. Chuck's agile brain landed on another thought. Was Sarah also angry at him? What for? Was part of Sarah's anger because she thought he was siding with Zondra about 'A'? _Who the hell was 'A'_

Sarah decided she would have a serious talk with him afterwards, a talk to avoid Zondra.

In her mind Zondra was one of the wolves wandering the halls of the CIA that he needed to be protected from. "Chuck, wait here, I'll be back in fifteen minutes. Don't move, understand!?"

Chuck bristled, he wasn't ten years old and he wasn't anybody's dog's body.

No one was explaining what was happening here. He was completely in the dark and totally mystified about Zondra's remark. _He never called 'A' a traitor? He'd had enough._

Chuck grabbed his sandwich and the orange off of his tray.

He looked at Sarah and didn't blink when their eyes met. Sarah saw his brown eyes darken.

"I'm not your asset. I'm a colleague. So, no. I won't wait here." He took a couple of steps and turned back. " I think I'll take a walk up to conference room FC6045." If either of you needs me, I'll be there."

Sarah's eyes widened. She'd obviously struck a nerve ordering Chuck around. Shit.

They both watched Chuck walk out of the cafeteria.

Zondra and Sarah collectively knew of a dozen private places at Langley where they could talk and…. if it came to it, try to beat the shit out of each other. Sarah snarled out, "Follow me."

{o}

There was a small dojo buried down in the bowels of the sprawling structure, where they could turn off the CCTV and any other surveillance. A place where a person could have a private conversation. The two beautiful and deadly women squared off.

They were separated by two arm's length. It had taken them five minutes to reach the dojo. Not a single word had passed between them. Sarah was pissed. Her anger had been stoked by what she'd seen in the cafeteria.

Seeing Zondra near Chuck and observing the easy manner in which they had been talking struck a nerve. Sarah was still coming to terms with her strong attraction to Chuck. She didn't yet recognize within herself, how far she'd fallen for him. She never suspected how susceptible she was to the green-eyed 'god' of jealousy.

Zondra had crossed the line long ago. Now, by manipulating Chuck, or whatever she was trying to do, she'd added grievous insult to injury.

Sarah glanced at her watch, she then glanced around the dojo. She disabled the CCTV camera. Zondra pulled out a pencil like device and turned it on, effectively jamming any listening devices.

Zondra had rehearsed a thousand times what she would say to Sarah, but now her mind was blank. What she did observe was something new.

She'd seen Sarah Walker angry before. But Sarah's anger stayed deep and ran cold like the Humboldt current.

When Sarah Walker acted on her anger, the person on the receiving end was usually surprised and then often…dead. But back in the cafeteria, she'd seen Sarah's anger running red hot.

Sarah had snapped, she almost snarled at Chuck. Zondra hadn't missed Chuck's bristling at being ordered around, and there had been a moment when she wondered, what else was going on between the two of them?

Zondra and Sarah were pumped with adrenaline. Zondra knew that Sarah wouldn't really listen to her until they'd both let off some steam. In the past, when the CAT squad had been rolling along, she and Sarah had often spared. They were well matched.

Sarah used this dojo, when she was at Langley, to practice and do her Kata. She walked over to a little closet and pulled out her gym bag. She grabbed two pairs of sweat pants. She threw a pair of sweat pants to Zondra.

They changed quickly out of their dresses without a single word being exchanged between them. Sarah waited for Zondra to finish putting on her sweat pants.

Sarah gave Zondra a wolfish grin. "You've had this coming for a long time."

Zondra snarled back at her. "Your false accusations have cost me a lot, I'm going to enjoy whipping your ass."

They started slowly testing each other with feints and telegraphed punches and kicks. Sarah's fist broke through Zondra's guard with a flurry of fist strikes and caught Zondra a glancing blow on the mouth.

Sarah realized too late that Zondra had baited the trap by letting Sarah's punch get through her guard.

Zondra's counter blow to Sarah's rib cage connected. Sarah winced with the pain.

Zondra had pulled her punch as had Sarah. The idea in this bout was as old as the history of the Blackfoot, Cheyenne and Lakota. Sarah and Zondra were counting 'coup'. Touch your opponent and dishonor them and along the way leave a bruise.

The training at the Farm was practical and deadly. The course was a hodge podge of mixed martial arts and evolving techniques.

Sarah and Zondra had been trained to end any fight quickly, in seconds. Eyes, groin, throat, soft tissue and key nerve clusters are the target areas. There was no Marques of Queensbury rules, there was no fair fighting. Disable, disarm, kill your opponent and move on.

This was not a fight to the death. They would not use a lot of the techniques they could've. But there would be blood and possibly bruised ribs, broken fingers and lots of contusions.

Another two minutes passed. The tempo of the attacks and countermoves had increased. Sarah now had a bloody nose and Zondra a burgeoning bruise on her cheek. Both women would be very sore tomorrow from bruises on their face, arms, legs and torsos.

They were so intent, so focused on the fight, that neither noticed when the door to the dojo silently and slowly opened.

Chuck slid into the room unnoticed. He wasn't sure what to expect. When he saw both of them in their bras, sweat pants and bare feet, it made him blush a deep scarlet from his neck to the tips of his ears. Sarah and Zondra still hadn't noticed him.

Chuck quietly eased back towards the door. His coming here had obviously been a really bad idea.

The truth was he couldn't help himself, his curiosity had driven him to follow them by hacking into the CCTV cameras. Doug Cousins in Cyber Security also had responsibility for building security. Chuck had remembered the access codes to the internal cameras.

Once he knew where they had gone, it had taken him four or five minutes to find his way to the dojo.

Sarah saw him first. "Chuck! What the hell?" Zondra stopped a punch directed at Sarah and spun around. "Chuck!"

Chuck was wide eyed with embarrassment, he mumbled, "Sorry to interrupt….." Chuck, from the little he'd seen, had no doubt that both these women could kill him with their bare hands. " ahhh…my mistake. I'll….I'll leave."

Zondra seized the moment. "Chuck, wait." Chuck hesitated.

Sarah jumped in and took the edge off her voice. "Chuck, please go outside. Give us…. a couple of minutes to pull ourselves together…to get dressed…then come back in." Chuck nodded and left them alone.

Zondra turned to Sarah. "Let me talk to both of you and I'll prove I'm not the traitor. Please Sarah, five minutes is all I need."

{o}

Chuck gave them exactly ten minutes and went back into the room.

Sarah and Zondra were sitting cross legged facing each other on the tatamis. They were thankfully dressed and a little more presentable. Their hair was tangled and damp with sweat. Chuck could see dried blood on both their faces and on their knuckles.

He joined them on the tatamis and sat down.

As the silence grew he became more nervous. Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer. "Did you guys manage to have…..a good talk?" Zondra and Sarah fought the grin pulling at the corners of their mouths, neither would let him know that he had instantly lightened the mood with his corny remark.

Zondra cleared her throat and then swallowed some blood. She looked directly at Sarah.

"When Chuck was an analyst with the NSA, he already knew about Augusto. He doesn't know about the squad, or about us, 'A' or the incident…"

Zondra took three of her precious minutes to explain to Sarah about how she and Chuck had met.

Zondra then took the last two minutes to explain about Chuck's insight into the transmitter, that back in 2003 it had to be a prototype, from a top secret DARPA lab. Chuck confirmed to Sarah what he knew about the transmitter.

Zondra pointed to her cell phone. "Chuck showed me an article from the Washington Post, about Thomas Shelby, a director at the DARPA labs. Shelby was selling state of the art technology to the Cartels for considerable cash."

Sarah's face gave nothing away as she listened to them both.

Zondra finished with, "I saw 'A' with Thomas Shelby. Carina was with me in the car, when we saw them together. Ask her, send Carina Shelby's photo."

Sarah had managed to finally listen to Zondra through the veil of her anger and jealousy. Chuck's presence in the room helped. She wasn't sure why his presence made a difference but it did. It calmed her in a way that no other person she knew could do.

Her anger bled away when she sensed that Zondra had not been manipulating Chuck, that she hadn't betrayed the CAT squad once again by breaking confidentiality to Chuck.

Sarah relaxed her posture, so did Zondra. "Why haven't you gone to Graham and told him about your…theories?"

Zondra laughed. "My evidence is at best circumstantial. Besides, 'A' is on his favorite agents list, while I'm on his shit list." Sarah didn't know whether Zondra's accusations against Amy were true or not. But she knew that Zondra sincerely believed they were true.

Zondra broke the silence. "I know why you brought me to this room. So, if you still don't believe me and want to pick up where we left off….let's go." Zondra waited.

Chuck found it uncomfortable to put his six foot three body into a sitting lotus position. He stood up.

"I think it's time the two of you started to trust me. I need somebody to tell me who the hell 'A' is and whether you want my help or not." He turned to Sarah and looked into her blue eyes. "Here's a chance for you to show that you trust me."

He looked down at both of them. "This time I'm really going up to conference room FC6045."

Sarah stood up. "Wait Chuck." Her tone was perfect, it wasn't an order rather it was clearly a request. Chuck stopped at the door and looked back.

Sarah looked down at Zondra. "Well….are you coming?"

Chuck led the way down the hallway to the elevator. "Chuck." He turned around at the sound of Sarah's voice. "Zondra and I will need fifteen minutes to…ah freshen up, we'll meet you in the conference room."

{o}

Sarah and Zondra were putting the finishing touches to their makeup in the washroom. Their efforts covered most of the obvious damage they'd inflicted on each other. Sarah sighed. "If you're agreeable… I think we need to tell Chuck about Amy, a little bit about the squad and why we fell out….okay?"

Zondra felt like a hundred pounds had been lifted suddenly from her back. "Yes, I think we need his help."

{o}

 **Conference Room FC6045-1:30pm **

Sarah and Zondra joined him in the conference room looking much better after twenty minutes of what he imagined was some serious 'freshening up'. He marvelled that even bruised, battered and mussed up, they still managed to look better than all the women he'd ever dated, including Jill.

Before they contacted Carina, Sarah spent fifteen minutes 'reading' Chuck in on a little bit about the CAT squad, who Amy was and then the 'incident' with the transmitter. As Sarah gave him background about the 'incident' he could see Zondra tense up. Zondra pipped up and made it crystal clear to Chuck that she'd been cleared by the CIA of any wrong doing.

After listening intently and not saying a word he sat back. "So, you, Carina and Zondra used to be close partners and, I take it, friends before they found the transmitter on Zondra?"

Zondra nodded her head. She wore her sadness like sackcloth and ashes.

His initial confusion that started at the lunch confrontation, started to lift. Chuck connected most of the dots. He was starting to think about how he might help them.

Chuck completed the video link to Carina. She was somewhere in Chile. Sarah had sent Carina a text and told her to get to a secure WIFI site for the conference call. Zondra was still on speaking terms with Carina and sent her the photo of Thomas Shelby.

As the image on the screen sharpened up, Carina's image came into HD focus. In the background a million little diamonds could be seen sparkling off the Pacific Ocean as the afternoon sun raced towards New Zealand. Chuck took a guess that she was either in Valparaiso or Concepcion.

Carina saw the three of them seated close together. She was stunned to see Sarah and Zondra in the same room. They'd put Chuck in the middle, their own personal demilitarized zone.

"So Chuck, what kind of trouble have you got yourself into this time? Don't worry Chuck, soon you'll be in my tender loving care."

Sarah's jaw worked back and forth. She reminded herself to warn Chuck about Carina before he left for the DEA part of his training.

Zondra took the lead. "Carina, did you have a chance to look at the photo I sent you?"

"Yes, ahh…I'm not certain that I've seen this guy before. I've never met him up close, if I did, I'd remember."

Zondra knew that memories could be dredged up by linking it to a place, a sound or a smell. She had a clear memory of that night. "Carina, do you remember the 'I Bar' in Coronado. You hooked up with the tall red haired CPO from Seal team four?"

A big smile played across Carina's face. "Oh, yes. You picked me up after we had done some... consulting….He was amazing. I found out he was the demolition and explosive's expert for the team. He had the most amazing hands and fingers, such a delicate touch….…"

Sarah jumped in. "Carina, please…focus…do you remember being with Zondra?"

"Yes, we went looking for Amy." Carina's eyes shifted to the right…it was coming back. "Okay, we saw her outside the Shores Beach Club. We didn't connect up with Amy because she'd found a guy. Wait, I remember…. we thought Amy was slumming because he wasn't her usual type. He …was…older...with gray hair."

Carina grabbed her phone and looked at the photo again. "Okay, I'm not a hundred percent certain. But this could be the guy….Shelby that's his name…right?"

Chuck finally spoke up. "I'm assuming the three of you want to test out your theory that Amy might be the traitor." They all nodded yes. "Well…if she and Augusto have a connection. You can feed false information to either Augusto or to Amy. Obviously, the information has to be credible. Augusto and Amy need to believe that the information has to be passed on urgently."

Carina smiled. "Go on Chuck?" Chuck shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "I'm still in training, you guys are the spies….you tell me what bait we have to put into the trap."

Sarah, Carina and Zondra spent the next ten minutes batting around ideas. Chuck sat there and had a ringside seat into how the three of them used to work together. It was a master class on entrapment and how to manipulate people and situations.

As the conversation wound down Chuck had an idea. "If you can create the need for them to urgently contact each other and I know the exact location for Amy…I know a way to prove whether Amy is a traitor or not."

Chuck had seen some very interesting 'spy toys' at the NSA. He'd have to convince the three of them to get Casey's help. Chuck smiled, if he knew only one thing about Major John Casey, it was that he hated traitors.

Carina agreed to be the one to reach out to Casey. Chuck told her what NSA 'toys' he needed.

Chuck killed the link. It was obvious that Sarah and Zondra hadn't made peace with each other quite yet, but it certainly looked like they'd agreed on an armistice. Sarah stood up. "We'll meet here in three days. I'll find out where Amy will be."

Chuck and Zondra stood up. Sarah walked over to Chuck. "We still have a full afternoon of training ahead of us." Chuck said goodbye to Zondra.

{o}

 **Same Day- 7:20pm**

 **Washington D.C.- 2660 Connecticut Avenue NW**

Sarah Walker knew how to make five dishes in total.

Three of them she'd learned at the Farm. The other two dishes she'd learned from her father. Jack Burton knew how to conjure up a passable mince and tatties and spaghetti Bolognese. Sarah hated to cook, so none of the five dishes would be on display tonight. Besides, she was too stiff and sore to cook.

Tonight she'd order in some Indian food.

It had taken her an extra fifteen minutes in the bathroom to cover up some of the bruises on her arms and neck. The cuts on two knuckles on her left hand were scabbing over nicely.

Chuck was due to turn up in ten minutes. There had only been two men who'd ever been inside her one bedroom apartment. She'd invited Chuck here so they could have total privacy.

She'd taken the two photos of Bryce Larkin down long ago and hidden them in her dresser drawer. They would not be talking about Bryce tonight or if she could help it in the near future.

Sarah had surprised herself when, at the end of their working day, she'd blurted out the invitation. "Chuck, I think we need to spend some more non-work time together, especially after what happened today." Chuck's eyes and his smile told her the answer was yes.

The plan was simple. Sarah wanted to warn Chuck to be careful around Zondra, at least until they had positive evidence that Amy was indeed the traitor. Sarah, now for the first time, had doubts that Zondra had betrayed their friendship.

But the main thing she wanted to do was warn Chuck about Carina.

Carina was her best friend, but had a funny way of showing it. She would have no hesitation in bedding Chuck. In fact, Carina would take it as personal failure if, within the month, she couldn't entice and enthrall him into a fling. That's all it would ever amount to because Carina didn't do relationships. Chuck needed to be warned.

Sarah sat on the couch and wondered whether she could even do relationships. Thus far there had only ever been the one relationship with Bryce. Ah, dear, dear handsome Bryce, all the charm in the world, a skilled spy and technically at least, a good lover.

At first it had been exciting being with Bryce. They were, on the surface and according to Langston Graham, a 'perfect match'. And it was true, they were a great spy couple. However, the bloom had gone off the rose quickly with Bryce Larkin.

Bryce's charm was superficial, it was veneer thin. His devotion to missions was absolute. Everything and everyone was a means to a successful 'mission' end. Sarah slowly recognized that Bryce was not only a taker of life, if the mission parameters called for it, he was also a taker in life.

She thought about Chuck Bartowski, he was a giver in life. He gave willingly to his friends and to his family. Not because he expected something back, no, he gave because it was somehow encoded deep within his DNA. What kind of person gives up three years of his life to protect a friend from going to jail?

Sarah wanted a relationship with him not because she wanted to take from him. She smiled because Chuck would hold nothing back if he got together with her. She didn't want to take from him, for the first time here was a man she wanted to give something to. Chuck trusted people and he fully expected people to trust him. She wanted to trust him….she believed she was well on the road to trusting him.

Unlike Carina, she didn't want a fling with Chuck, she wanted much, much more than that. That thought terrified her and delighted her with equal measure.

She needed to let Chuck know how she felt about him.

{o}

Chuck had put on a blue shirt with a button down collar and acid washed jeans and a pair of converse shoes. Sarah had said come casual. He missed not having Ellie here to advise him on what he should wear when he was going on a date. _Is this a date, or just a non-work thing?_

When Sarah opened the door to let Chuck in, her eyes widened with delight. Chuck looked very good in the close fitting jeans. She gulped down a quick breath and her heart skipped a beat.

Sarah was wearing an orange blouse with spaghetti straps that left her shoulders bare. She also had an orange headband on her hair. Chuck's body language and his brown eyes told Sarah all she needed to know about the clothes she'd chosen for this evening.

Sarah didn't hesitate. She took a step forward, stood on her tip toes, leaned in quickly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Welcome, come on in, here's the menu for the Indian takeout. Do you like it hot ….or mild?"

Chuck had zoned out. The combination of her outfit and the unexpected kiss on the cheek had somehow affected his ears. "Uhhh.."

Sarah coyly repeated her question. "I asked you whether you liked it hot ...or mild?"

{o}

 **One hour later**

Sarah and Chuck had tucked into the Chicken Korma and polished off a couple of beers. The conversation had been relaxed as they went over what he'd learned this afternoon, working with Tom Corrigan. Apparently, Tom had shown him some of the latest AI filtering programs the CIA had just brought on line to go through huge databases.

Sarah suggested they move over to the couch and got each of them another beer. "Chuck, I'm sorry about what happened at lunch…I mean about ordering you around." She made sure he was looking right into her eyes. "Chuck, you're not an asset….you're my colleague, okay?"

Chuck smiled at her, the food and beer had relaxed him. "Consider yourself forgiven. Can I ask you a question about today?" Sarah gave him a nod.

"Is Amy a traitor?" Sarah let out a sigh. "I don't know Chuck, if she's a traitor, then she fooled all of us." Sarah paused. "Believe me Chuck, that is a pretty remarkable achievment, given the squad's collective experience." She gathered her thoughts.

"Chuck, we have about ten days left together before you go over to the DEA." Sarah paused, she had his complete attention. "I think we need to give you a taste of being in the field. Three days from now, there's a reception at the Austrian Embassy. You and I should attend…let's say as a married couple."

Chuck was leaning forward, hanging on her words. This was definitely new, it hadn't been on the program she handed him, when he first arrived at Langley. "So, what would be the purpose…ah sorry…what would be the mission objective?"

Sarah smiled. "Let's see if we can gain access to their computer room. We won't take anything. We'll have no incriminating information on us. The worst case is we get caught wandering away from the reception area. They'll throw us out. Are you willing to give it a try?"

Chuck smiled at her. "Sure, what could possibly go wrong?"

{o}

Sarah insisted on driving him back to his apartment in McLean, VA. The atmosphere between them was the most relaxed she could remember. Chuck had been trawling through the radio stations picking out songs he liked and singling along to them. His enthusiasm and joyfulness delighted her.

Chuck gave her a big smile. "Thanks Sarah, I had a great time tonight. The idea of going on a 'fake' mission with you…is…exciting."

Her attraction to him had been building slowly. It started in Burbank. When she reached out and touched his back after he'd found out where Carina was being held. The warmth and the little jolt she felt was the beginning.

She'd tried to shake it off. What good would come of it? She'd failed miserably in trying to forget about him.

Sarah could deal with a mere physical attraction. You could always scratch that itch.

Chuck Bartowkski brought so much more to the table than being merely handsome. The fact he didn't know he was handsome was attractive. It was his intelligence that was tempered with a genuine humility and humor. Those were the missing pieces she'd been looking for.

The hell of it was she didn't even know she'd been looking for that kind of man or those kind of qualities. She'd just been trying to survive another day as Graham's enforcer.

Sarah felt the enormous pull towards Chuck as he sat there smiling. _Don't think Sarah, do it_.

She leaned forward and put her right hand behind his neck. He moved towards her. For a heartbeat or two, Sarah was conscious of doing most of the work in the kiss. Just before she was going to end it. Chuck deepened the kiss and brought his right hand up to her cheek. She fought like mad not to moan as his tongue found hers.

After several seconds they parted and looked at each other. Sarah found her voice. "Good night Chuck, see you tomorrow."

She waited until he reached the apartment's main entrance. He looked back at her and waved. Sarah waved back at him.

She accelerated the Porsche away from the curb and merged with silky smoothness into the traffic. A quick thought popped into her head. _Hands off Chuck, Zondra._ She'd make sure Zondra got that message.

Sarah hit the Interstate's on ramp at speed and was soon doing eighty. The feel of the kiss lingered and she touched her lips a couple of times.

She now had less than two weeks to build up Chuck's resistance to Carina's undoubted advances. _God, Chuck alone with that temptress for a month._

Tonight was the start of her own personal mission. Her objective was crystal clear.

 **A/N** -If it is alright with those following the story, I'm probably going to need more than twelve chapters to complete the story. I promise I won't drag it out.


	11. Chapter 11

**_A/N-_** Thanks to all for your comments and suggestions. I welcome the reviews and PMs. The interactions with the folk following the story is a real delight. The story continues. Thanks to michaelfmx for editing this story and your suggestions.

 _I saw their starved lips in the gloam_

 _With horrid warning gapèd wide,_

 _And I awoke and found me here,_

 _On the cold hill's side._

 _-John Keats_

 _From Chapter 10_

 _She waited until he reached the apartment's main entrance. He looked back at her and waved. Sarah waved back at him._

 _She accelerated the Porsche away from the curb and merged with silky smoothness into the traffic. A quick thought popped into her head. 'Hands off Chuck, Zondra.' She'd make sure Zondra got that message._

 _Sarah hit the Interstate's on ramp at speed and was soon doing eighty. The feel of the kiss lingered and she touched her lips a couple of times._

 _She now had less than two weeks to build up Chuck's resistance to Carina's undoubted advances. God, Chuck alone with that temptress for a month._

 _Tonight was the start of her own personal mission. Her objective was crystal clear._

 **Chapter 11**

 **Three Days Later- 8:30am. Langley Conference Room FC6045**

Chuck entered the room carrying a tray with three coffees. He had a black for Sarah, one sugar, one cream for Zondra and a coffee with cream for himself. The two women both rewarded him with a smile. He had a strange feeling that he'd been the topic of conversation?

The very idea that two beautiful women would be talking about him almost made him laugh out loud. When he'd been back in Burbank working at the Buy More, sophisticated women like Sarah and Zondra would barely give him the time of day. They'd take one look at his clothes and pocket protector and look right through him.

Chuck now had more confidence. "So, were you talking about me?"

Zondra fixed him with a neutral look.

Sarah, in a serious tone, answered, "Chuck, with all that's going on in the world, famine, the mortgage crisis, tensions with China, and Amy possibly being a traitor, why on earth would you possibly think you might be the topic of conversation?"

Chuck back pedalled. Shit, he must really be delusional, he'd overstepped the mark.

Sarah saw his reaction and gave him a quick wink. She was rewarded with a relieved smile from Chuck.

Sarah took a sip of her coffee. _God he is so easy to mess with_. "Yes, Chuck, we were talking about you. I've learned that Amy will be in Los Angeles four weeks from now." Chuck caught the excitement in Zondra's voice. "You and Casey will meet with Amy in LA and bait the trap."

The two women took the next ten minutes to lay out the plan for him and his role.

Carina and Zondra would be on hand to spring the trap. Sarah added, "..if she's really guilty." Chuck turned to Sarah. "Won't you be there?"

Sarah shook her head. "I'll be on assignment somewhere…uhh...you'll be Carina's responsibility."

Zondra endured the silence that followed. She could reach out and almost touch the disappointment that hung in the air. She now had no doubts that something was going on between Sarah and Chuck.

She was having a bit of difficulty picturing Sarah Walker and Chuck as an item. Added to that disbelief, there was a tinge of disappointment that she might have to go through Sarah to get to Chuck. _He was an interesting man_ , _but was he worth the hassle…._

During all the time that Zondra had worked with Sarah, she'd never seen her act like this around a man.

The Sarah Walker she'd known was indifferent to the looks men gave her. She accepted that she was beautiful, alluring even, and unconsciously broke their hearts and shattered their fantasies by not deigning to give them a glance or a smile as she passed them by.

All the members of the squad accepted without question that they could grab a man's attention and hold it. Carina's inherent sexuality somehow magically misted off her and filled the room. Amy was almost coquettish in the way she flirted and very accomplished at collecting scalps along the way.

All of them had attended Roan Montgomery's course at the Farm.

He had taken what he called the lovely 'raw material' they brought to the table and had made it that much better.

The essence of seduction and attraction had been revealed to them. Roan had held back the veil and showed them the underpinnings of desire, including men's and women's unspoken fantasies. He showed them how to use those desires and fantasies in order to advance the mission objectives.

Sarah was the undisputed star of the class. It was evident to all that Roan was proudest of her.

Zondra reflected on the old days of the squad. How she'd behaved when it came to men during those times the CAT squad was on the prowl. She was in between the spectrum set up by Carina & Amy at one end and Sarah at the other end.

What exactly was Sarah Walker doing with respect to Chuck? Was she playing him, just having some fun? Should she warn Chuck that Sarah could turn the flirting, the sexuality, on and off like a light switch. Zondra had seen Sarah do it to the puzzlement of the mark or asset, or even to the very occasional one night stand.

Zondra remembered back to the days of the CAT squad. The Sarah Walker of old was usually closed off to the men hovering around her in a bar or a club. She would often leave early to prepare for the next mission, usually without a man in tow. More often than not, Sarah was above the flirting and one night stands that Amy and Carina indulged in with gay abandon.

{o}

 **One Hour Later**

 **Langley Wardrobe Section**

Chuck felt his heart give an extra thump when Sarah reached up and adjusted his bow tie. She then placed her warm right hand over his heart as she smoothed the Armani Tuxedo jacket. She smiled at him.

"Well Mr. Carmichael, I think you're ready for this evening." Chuck had suggested their married couple cover names at their first planning session. Sarah had shrugged her shoulders and said, "Sure, we'll give it a go."

Sarah and Chuck had reviewed the mission and objectives several times until Chuck could repeat it back to her verbatim. He now had a clear insight into how carefully and meticulously she prepared for even a 'fake' mission.

Sarah shared with Chuck that she'd contacted the head of security for the Austrian Embassy, Rolf Gruber. Rolf was a career spy with Bundesministerium fur Landesverteidigung und Sport. (BMLVS).

Sarah and Rolf had spent three weeks together in Darfur on a joint NATO mission back in 2003. They'd narrowly escaped dying on several occasions. Their friendship had grown from their mutual survival and mutual respect for the others abilities. Rolf was a very dangerous man and someone you'd want in your corner, especially in Darfur.

Sarah and Rolf had arranged that this would be a friendly test for his embassy security staff. She'd told Rolf she was training someone and wanted to see how he'd perform. Rolf's only condition was, ".. do not disrupt the actual reception, no smoke, no fake bombs or fire alarms."

Sarah readily agreed to his condition.

She'd seen Chuck in action when he'd hacked the satellites to rescue Carina….Rolf and his staff wouldn't know what hit them.

Sarah had bet Rolf fifty dollars that she and her 'student' could get into the computer room and back into the ball room without being seen or stopped. Rolf had agreed not to warn his team but would be nearby, "..to collect my fifty dollars from you Sarah."

Chuck looked at Sarah. "So, what are you going to wear tonight?" Sarah gave him one last pat on the chest. "Oh, I'll throw something together, don't worry."

{o}

 **Embassy of Austria  
3524 International Court, NW  
Washington, D.C., 20008- 8:00pm**

Sarah had arranged for the limo to pick Chuck up first. Sarah was waiting for them at the front entrance of her apartment.

He got out of the limo to escort her down the pathway and that's when he saw what Sarah had thrown together at the last minute to wear tonight.

As she stepped into the halo of light from the street lamp, he saw the long elegant black dress, with a slit on her left side. The seemingly magic material in the dress made sure that it hugged her in all the right spots as she walked towards him.

Maybe his eyes were playing tricks, because it looked like a thousand pieces of silver cleverly interwoven into the dress were sparkling as she moved towards him. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a stylish bun and she was wearing long silver earrings. In her high heels Sarah was just an inch and a half shorter than Chuck. He sucked in his breath as she drew near to him.

Chuck's slack jaw look warmed Sarah and she smiled at him. Before he could speak she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "We have work to do, focus grasshopper." Chuck came back down to earth. _Did Sarah actually say that, shades of David Carradine?_

{o}

The plan to get to the embassy's computer room involved going through an alarmed door adjacent to the women's washroom. There were of course CCTV cameras throughout the building and very discreet embassy security personnel with integrated earwigs and comms. They were in evidence throughout the reception area and beyond.

Sarah had wanted to see how Chuck would approach and solve the problem of getting in and then out.

Chuck took ten hours working with Doug Cousins to hack into the thirty-five cameras at the embassy. Getting the floor plans for the embassy was child's play. He hacked into the Washington FD, by law all buildings had to send them a copy of their fire plan, which included blueprints of the building and the electrical wiring.

Chuck and Doug had created a program he loaded onto his iPhone. The program would give him selective control of each camera. He could freeze the frame and then unlock it by simply touching several icons on his screen.

The alarmed door had initially been a problem. It was a silent alarm that, when triggered, would bring the security staff running. Sarah and Chuck solved that problem with a 'cry wolf' approach.

An hour before they intended to go through the door closest to the computer room, Chuck would start triggering the alarms for six other doors throughout the embassy in a random sequence.

It would look like a software glitch. In the control room, they'd hear the alarm and the CCTV camera would show….nothing, just an empty hallway. The hope was they'd grow desensitized to another false alarm.

Following their plan, Sarah and Chuck were dancing in the ballroom and whispered to each other where the security staff were, any people they might recognize and where the cameras were located. Sarah had a sense of déjà vu. She had done this before as Mrs. Anderson.

Bryce was a better dancer and he worked the room better than Chuck.

Chuck would do alright for a bit, but then he would lose focus. When his cheek touched hers during a slow dance, she knew he wasn't focusing on the mission. When she moved in close to him and brushed her body against him, she felt his reaction. He'd lose focus again.

Sarah wasn't disappointed, not in the least. She didn't want a Bryce replacement, and the whole purpose of tonight was tied up in her own personal mission. The fake mission was merely a means to an end.

Sarah whispered in his ear, "Time to head for the washrooms."

Sarah and Chuck went into their separate washrooms situated off the ballroom. Chuck pulled out his phone and located the camera outside the washrooms. He engaged his special program.

He came out of the washroom and tapped on the ladies washroom door. Sarah came out quickly. When they pushed through the alarmed door, the CCTV camera showed an empty hallway, courtesy of Chuck.

Fraulein Lina Fessler was on duty in the embassy control room. She checked the camera, no one was there. She logged the false alarm as another software glitch. She'd stopped sending security people to check the immediate areas after the fourth false alarm.

Chuck led the way to the computer room based on the map locked inside his brain. He selectively turned off each camera before they came into view and then switched it back on again.

Sarah pulled out her iPhone and a credit card like apparatus when they reached the computer room. She plugged it into the key card slot. Thirty seconds later they were inside the computer room.

Sarah pulled out a little greeting card from her clutch purse. The card was addressed to Rolf. She'd written in German, "Lunch on me next time I'm in Vienna."

They quickly retraced their steps until they were ten feet from the original door they'd come through.

Chuck, on their way back, had unlocked each security camera as soon as they were outside its field of view.

Sarah was impressed, they'd done it, and they'd accomplished the fake mission.

Fate had other ideas.

Albert Kesselring was new to the staff, a recent graduate of the BLVMS. He desperately had to go to the washroom. No more vindaloo for him from the Darjeeling Duck that had just opened two blocks away.

The rules for the embassy security staff were clear, use only the staff washrooms. But nature's call had superseded man made rules. He'd snuck out of his patrol area and used the washroom off the main ballroom, which was strictly verboten.

Albert, much relieved, and cursing all spices from the subcontinent, deactivated the silent alarm and entered the hallway.

As soon as the door opened Sarah went into action, maybe they could bluff their way out.

She grabbed Chuck and whispered fiercely, "Kiss me."

Chuck had never been kissed like that before. Sarah's hands were on his cheeks, the back of his neck, in his hair. She was grinding against him. She wrapped one of her legs around him. Chuck lost his situational awareness. He forgot everything, the mission, even the fact he was in the Austrian Embassy.

Sarah's kisses, her perfume, her touch. She was pressed right up against him. He responded and deepened the kiss. His hands were on the small of her back pulling her even closer. Sarah moaned into his mouth.

The moment ended all too quickly. "What are you doing here!"

Albert Kesselring was new to the job and a true Teuton. Rules were to be followed, precisely.

A more experienced security team member would've understood what was happening in front of his eyes. He would've told the errant lovers to go back into the ballroom, this area was off limits and save himself all the hassle and paperwork.

Albert followed the procedures he'd been taught without question, he called his boss and told Sarah and Chuck to wait right here. He'd taken out his Taser and was ready to use it if they tried to move. Sarah had already calculated three different ways she could've disarmed Albert, killed him even. Instead she looked at Chuck, he wasn't freaking out. Good.

Five minutes later, Rolf entered the hallway. He had a rich baritone voice. In German he said, "Sarah Walker, I think you owe me fifty dollars."

Sarah had been glad for the delay. She needed time to pull herself together before Rolf got here. The short interlude with Chuck had unsettled her.

"Rolf, good to see you again." She opened her clutch purse and took out a fifty dollar bill and handed it to him.

Sarah switched to English. "Rolf, you'd better review some of your procedures. We almost made it. I've left you a little note inside the computer room."

Rolf's eyes widened in surprise. "He turned to Albert. Go and check the computer room and bring me back the note."

{o}

Sarah and Chuck spent fifteen minutes telling Rolf how he could tighten his security. Chuck asked for Rolf's email account and sent him a memo he'd already prepared on changes the embassy needed to make to their firewall.

Rolf's skeptical look prompted Chuck to elaborate. "Herr Gruber, with my iPhone, I control every one of your thirty-five cameras. If I was you I'd look at the memo I'm sending you or someone else will hack you."

Rolf escorted Sarah and Chuck to the front door of the embassy and ordered a taxi for them. He gave Sarah a hug and kiss on the cheek just before she got into the taxi.

She sat back in the taxi and leaned her head against the headrest and smiled.

Best failed mission, ever!

Best fifty bucks she'd ever lost. Her personal plan for her and Chuck needed to be advanced….urgently… based on what had happened at the embassy. The kiss and his touch had ignited some fires she had no intention of putting out.

Sarah leaned forward and gave the driver Chuck's address, even though her apartment was closer.

There was no way she was going to have sex with Chuck in a bed that Bryce Larkin had sullied. At least not until she got a new mattress.

As far as Sarah was concerned this evening was just getting started.

Chuck Bartowski had no idea how good he looked this evening or how desirable he was. Sarah had caught several beautiful women looking at Chuck and giving her less than affable looks. Those women would've been quite happy to see the earth open up and swallow Sarah whole, leaving the field clear for them with Chuck.

{o}

 **Two Hours Later**

 **Chuck's Apartment **

Sarah was in superb shape, but to her surprise, her heart was still hammering in her chest as she laid her head back down on the pillow. Chuck lay beside her and was taking deep breaths as he slowly came back down to earth.

Chuck angled his head and body to look at her. "There…there were some moments where I thought my heart was simply going to burst….."

Sarah reached out her right hand and placed it on his chest over his heart. "I'm glad it didn't burst…..were not finished here."

Chuck laughed and groaned at the same time. "Well, I suppose this is one way to deal with the adrenaline after a real spy mission."

Sarah's face grew serious.

One day she would have to tell him that she and Bryce had once been partners and lovers. They'd had adrenaline fueled sex a number of times after a dangerous mission.

And yet there was so much more she wanted to tell him, now that they'd been together.

She'd wanted to take Chuck's hand, look into those dark brown eyes and tell him that being with him was far beyond just dealing with adrenaline or satisfying a physical urge or scratching an itch.

Somehow, sometime, if she could ever find the actual words she would say, "Chuck, tonight I gave you something….I gave you a part of me. I did it willingly, joyfully. Tonight, I opened the deepest parts of me and I trusted you would receive them and treasure them."

Chuck saw the mood change and the sadness flicker in her blue eyes. "Sarah, I'm sorry….God, sometimes I'm such an idiot….I know this….what just happened…well, it was the most special thing that has ever happened to me."

Sarah moved closer to him. Her perfume, the smell from her body, the scent from shampoo she used, it was all messing with his mind. Chuck struggled to find the right words. "I don't do this a lot, I mean to say… I'm not a casual sex, one night stand kind of guy."

Sarah was looking at him intently. He could swear he saw little flecks of gold mixed in with the deep blue in her eyes. That threw him off and he had to reboot his tongue. "I…I.. have this feeling that what just happened here wasn't casual….for you…ahhh..I'll stop talking now."

The silence grew as they looked at each other. Their faces were inches from each other. Sarah leaned in and started a kiss. It was a long and languorous kiss, wet and deep. When the kiss ended Sarah caught her breath. "Chuck, consider yourself spoken for. You now have….you have me."

Sarah's personal mission had achieved a key objective. She had made a commitment to Chuck Bartowski. They had made a commitment.

Sarah laughed when she saw the smile on Chuck's face. "Chuck, definitely not now… but before you head out to be with Carina….we need to have a long talk."

{o}

 **Chuck's Last Day at Langley-December 1** **st** **, 2007**

The last ten days had been exhausting for Chuck.

Sarah's training plan during the day kept him busy from 8:00am until 6:00pm. He spent the lion's share of the day with Tom Corrigan and Doug Cousins. Sarah had him meet with two other field agents, one of whom was a surveillance expert.

Sarah wanted Chuck to become adept at following someone while remaining invisible.

The goal was to blend in and become non-descript. Chuck thought it was total nonsense, he was six foot three; it's very hard not to stand out, unless he walked around like Quasimodo.

After the first day Sarah agreed with him, so they switched the training emphasis to teach him how to spot people following him on foot and in cars.

The nights were equally exhausting and thrilling.

They'd shifted their love making over to Sarah's apartment. Chuck told Sarah he really liked her new queen sized bed, which earned him a special smile. "Yeah, I went off the old bed, it didn't feel right anymore."

Chuck had noticed that Sarah's apartment was neat, clean and vanilla plain. There was nothing personal in it. The colors were all earth tones and boring. He decided to do something.

 _The third night he showed up with something, a sort of house warming gift, since he practically lived there now. He hoped she would understand what it was and not hate him for bringing it._

 _Sarah opened the door, her eyes were that warm blue he loved. Sarah looked down and saw what Chuck was holding at his feet, it was wrapped in brown paper. "Chuck, what…." He cut her off, "Sarah, I had Ellie courier this to me. It was in my room and is probably the most valuable thing I own."_

 _Chuck explained that this had been a gift to him from his dad while she tore away the brown paper to see what it was. Sarah looked at it. It was a Tron poster. She felt the immensity of what he was giving her._

 _"_ _Chuck, I can't accept this as a gift….you must never give this poster away." Chuck put his warm hand on her forearm as she was holding up the poster and looking at it. "It's not really a gift, it's really my assurance, my promise to you that I'm coming back…to you ….to this apartment."_

 _Sarah got it, she understood what he was saying. She took the poster into the bedroom and put it on the floor opposite the bed. "Chuck, we'll put it up there…so, when I'm here, in this bed and you're not_ , _it will be our link to each other."_

 _Sarah would've never picked this poster to put in her apartment. It wasn't great art and not exactly her taste. But for the first time ever there was something in this CIA apartment that was personal, that was real. Chuck's gift that wasn't really a gift touched her deeply._

 _It was like a virtuoso had plucked a magic chord that resonated deeply within her. She didn't trust herself to speak. She moved towards Chuck and pulled him down into a kiss that she didn't want to end._

 _As they were kissing Sarah manoeuvred them to the foot of the bed and gently pushed him until he was lying on the bed and she was on top of him. "Chuck, dinner is going to be delayed, I've got a gift for you."_

 **December 2, 2007**

 **DEA Field Office, Los Angeles**

 **255 East Temple Street**

Carina Miller was a patient woman. When she, Casey and Sarah had agreed on Chuck's training plan, she'd wanted the final month for herself. She was looking forward to working with Chuck. He was smart, good looking and, if she could get him to loosen up a bit, he would be a lot of fun.

Carina Miller masked her ambition behind the persona she'd created. She realized three things; one, her days as a covert operative were numbered, she wasn't getting any younger; two, the next step in the ladder for her was Assistant Special Agent in Charge (ASAC); three, her goal was to run the Special Operations Division (SOD).

Chuck Bartowski would be a tremendous asset in helping her to achieve her goals. She liked Chuck, but she loved his abilities with computers and the way his mind worked. Carina was hoping that when his three year contract ran out, she would persuade, recruit or entice him to work for her at the DEA.

As she waited for Chuck to show up, she wondered what exactly had gone on between him and Blondie. She wasn't too worried. Sarah and Chuck could never really happen. Sarah was too tightly wound, her defences were always up.

She loved Sarah but she wasn't blind to how Sarah's 'wet work' had affected her.

If anything, Sarah was even more insular than when they worked together. She might sleep with Chuck and all he'd walk away with would be a great night of sex and maybe a cold shoulder the next day. She'd seen it happen. Poor Chuck.

She was, however, worried about Chuck's connection with Zondra. Damnit. Zondra was no slouch in the looks department, and when she wanted a man ….that man would find it almost impossible to resist her.

Yes, Zondra might be a complicating factor.

On the plus side, Chuck Bartowski was hers for the next month. It would be good to see old Chuckles again. _Oops, better not call him that, Chuck, call him Chuck._

 **McLean, VA- December 2, 2007 -4pm**

 **6682 Elm St, Practice of Dr. Branwen Owens**

Dr. Owens had been fascinated to get Agent Walker's call and her request for a session. Once again Agent Walker didn't want to meet at Langley. Her fascination was also mixed with some concern that things hadn't worked out with Agent Walker and Chuck.

She had extended her day to meet with the enigmatic and complex Agent Walker. Sometimes Dr. Owens regretted that none of the work she did with the CIA would ever be published in Psychology Journals. Agent Walker on her own would merit several papers.

Branwen went to her waiting room on the stroke of four o'clock. Agent Walker was waiting. She was wearing a blue pencil skirt, a white blouse with French cuffs and a pair of Jimmy Choo low heels. Not for the first time, Branwen felt like a bit of slob next to her.

They sat across from each other in comfortable arm chairs. "Dr. Owen, I appreciate you seeing me on short notice."

"Not at all Sarah, what's going on?"

Sarah had been given three days off before she would be back in Graham's 'line up.' She no longer wanted to work for the man, she no longer wanted to be his enforcer. In fact, she no longer wanted to be anybody's enforcer. She felt trapped.

She was also feeling a little down and suspected the reason was that Chuck was gone and he was with Carina. These feelings of separation, of longing even, were new and foreign to her.

Sarah needed to talk to someone, badly. The problem was who could she talk to? She trusted three, maybe four, people. Sadly, she couldn't talk with Carina, because she was part of the problem. She couldn't talk with her mom because of Ryker. She couldn't talk with Tom Corrigan, this was too personal. And finally, she couldn't talk with Chuck, at least not yet.

Dr. Owens was perhaps the only person who might appreciate what Sarah's main issue was. An issue that was causing her to lose sleep.

"Dr. Owens, Chuck Bartowski and I are…." Sarah was stuck for the right word. They were lovers, they were in a relationship, at least the start of one. She had used the word boyfriend with him several times.

Sarah started again. "Chuck is very special to me and I've let him into to….I mean …he's now an important part of my life."

Branwen wasn't surprised and pleased at the news, she nodded.

"My problem, my worry is ….he doesn't know what I do…I mean the 'wet work'. I'm pretty sure he'll bolt if I tell him."

Branwen had seen this two or three times before with other agents who'd met someone. "How much does Chuck mean to you, I mean, if he couldn't handle your past life, if he left you, how would you feel?"

Sarah looked down at her hands resting in her lap. She looked up and her eyes were moist. "I'd feel devastated. So, I was wondering if I can somehow keep him in the dark and still do what I'm good at?"

Branwen, in that moment, knew two things. One,Sarah Walker hadn't come to fully understand she was in love, and, second, she had to tell her some very sad truths.

"Sarah, I'm afraid it's already too late to try to hide this from him." Sarah blinked. "Too late?"

"Chuck's extremely intelligent, if he doesn't know what you do, he soon will. Lying to him will only make what you have to eventually tell him worse."

Sarah felt nauseous. She laughed bitterly, "So, you're telling me that at the very moment I've found this amazing man who makes me happy, I have to risk losing him….because….because of my past sins? That's really shitty."

Branwen leaned forward. "Sarah, you do realize you're in love with Chuck, right?" Sarah's head jerked up. "I never said I'm in love with him….I mean he's..."

Sarah couldn't stay seated. The thought of herself being in love, like a normal person...no? Is it true?

She suddenly stood up and walked to the window and looked out on the traffic running along Elm St. After a couple of minutes she walked back to the chair and sat down. She looked at Branwen, "I don't know, maybe...maybe you're right?"

Branwen needed to get her attention. "Sarah, you haven't acknowledged the fact you're in love. I get that. Especially if the emotions and feelings are new to you. Is Chuck in love with you?"

Sarah finally smiled. "Yes, I can see it in his eyes, he's head over heels, he adores me and we are great. .." Sarah stopped herself, she was not going to share her sex life with Dr. Owens, even if she longed to tell someone how amazing the last ten days had been.

Branwen relaxed a little. "Sarah, love has always been a risky business. Sometimes, to make the relationship work, you have to risk losing it. I know that sounds counter intuitive. In your special circumstance, he needs to know and you need to risk losing him." Branwen sighed. "Sarah, if he finds out and realizes you lied to him…well... your relationship will not survive it."

Sarah looked crestfallen with the news. She hated the thought that this short period of happiness could be suddenly ripped away from her. "That's not what I wanted to hear from you Dr. Owens."

Branwen waited. "Sarah, something else. I think your days as a CIA assassin are numbered. We need to book another session, so I can explain why that is."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Director Graham won't allow me to quit, he'll fire me...maybe even..."

Branwen allowed her dislike for Langston Graham to show. "Sarah, you and I together will figure out a way for you to quit the wet work and still keep your job. However, for now don't you breathe a word to that cunning fox Graham. Okay?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 **

**A/N-** A bit of a delay in getting this chapter out. Travel and an unwanted germ threw cold water on my muse. We bump into Bryce and the Intersect. Time line wise we are at December 13, 2007. I've tweaked some canon timelines….you'll catch on. Thank you michaelfmx for editing and your valued input.

 _And this is why I sojourn,_

 _Alone and palely loitering,_

 _Though the sedge is withered from the lake,_

 _And no birds sing._

 ** _-John Keats_**

Trivia*** **SDGE,** San Diego Gas & Electric Company.

 **December 13, 2007**

 **DEA Field Office, Los Angeles**

 **255 East Temple Street**

 _Hi, my name is Chuck, and here are some things you may not know._

 _I'm nearing the end of my second week with Carina Miller. When I first arrived here_ , _I wasn't sure what to expect. Well, that's not exactly true, Sarah and I had talked about my one month stint with the DEA. She went over with me what to expect when working for the DEA._

 _Sarah had something else she wanted to talk about._

 _One morning over coffee and croissants, she spelled out that Carina would not only flirt with me, she would try to get me into bed with her?_

 _The shocker was when Sarah sheepishly admitted to me that in the past_ , _even though Carina and she were best friends, they'd steal each other's guy. I'm not very good at hiding my feelings_ , _and Sarah picked up on my negative reaction right away._

 _Frankly, I don't understand how you would do that kind of thing to your best friend….I mean_ , _try to steal their boyfriend?_

 _Sarah offered up a weak defense of her behavior. She said it had happened only three times. The guys were not really boyfriends, usually just men they'd met that day and who wouldn't be there tomorrow._

 _I said, "Well, I'll tell Carina that I'm your boyfriend and we're in an exclusive relationship." Sarah had looked nervous and I prodded her about why she looked so uncomfortable with me sharing that information with Carina._

 _"_ _Chuck, you're my guy. Never, ever doubt that …..but I don't want Carina to know that….at least, not right now."_

 _I wasn't upset, I'd already figured out that as sophisticated, well-travelled, dangerous and beautiful, as Sarah Walker was_ , _she was a neophyte when it came to being in a relationship._

 _Ironic right? Because it's not exactly like I'm the poster child for dating and relationships_ , _but nonetheless I was the one with the most experience. Go figure._

 _So, I acquiesced to her wish to keep our relationship a secret, with one exception. Sarah had a worried look in those gorgeous blue eyes, until I said, "I want to tell Ellie about us, okay?" It took another twenty minutes to gradually bring Sarah around to the idea…but she finally agreed I could tell Ellie._

 _I'm really glad I was prepared for Carina's flirting. I feel like a saint to have resisted it. By the way, it wasn't exactly easy._

 _Carina Miller is a woman who is not only beautiful, but is also the epitome of a sexy woman. Let me put it this way. If you were in a room with twenty or thirty people and Carina walked into the room and deigned to pay attention to you, well_ , _you'd feel like a million bucks and would gladly soak up the envy of those other people in the room. That's one side to Carina._

 _The other sides of herself she kept hidden; the ambition, her strategic grasp and also, that she was a polymath. I did some digging about Carina and her background. Some of the information was readily available, some of it you needed to be a talented hacker to get at._

 _Carina had gone to Dartmouth and walked away with an undergraduate degree in South American history/Simon Bolivar. She graduated summa cum laude. W_ _hen she wasn't undercover_ , _she studied online_ , _and over a period of five years got another degree in criminology. I found all this out without anyone being the wiser, especially her._

 _She spoke four languages plus English, fluently; Spanish, French, Russian and Polish. So, the long and short of all of this is don't underestimate Carina or, as so many had done, do so at your own peril._

 _Carina was a great believer that you learn in the field._

 _I pointed out that I wasn't a field agent, I was a backroom nerd, resource kind of guy. Carina touched me on the arm. "Chuck, I'm not going to let anything happen to you out there_ , _but you do need to understand the actual conditions I operate under." Point made._

 _You're probably wondering how my training with the DEA has gone, so far._

 _Good news is that I've learned a lot about the cartels that operate in the San Diego and LA area. Carina is a walking encyclopedia of who's who, the cartel pipelines and their distribution systems. I feel like I've been sipping from a firehose._

 _Now for the bad news. I screwed up, sort of._

 _Two days ago_ , Jordan Geoffrion and I _were sitting in a white SDGE surveillance van. We were both dressed in SDGE uniforms with photo ID tags._

 _The van was parked in a nice suburb to the north of San Diego, Encinitas. Carina was inside the mark's house that overlooked a little park and the beach._

 _She was having a drink with Esteban Lopez, a junior banker, whose bank, (California Home Street Credit Union) was suspected of laundering money for two of the Cartels. The mission objective was to recruit Esteban as an asset. Once recruited he would spy on what was going on inside the bank._

 _This first meeting was what Carina called planting the hook and then letting it sit for a couple of days before she yanked on it._

 _I felt sorry for Esteban, he was already under Carina's spell and wouldn't need too much 'yanking' before he would be one of the DEA's prized assets._

 _My job today was to shadow Jordan, the other DEA agent in the truck_ , _and watch Carina while she was undercover. Jordan's job was to record the conversation, then to let Carina know they had a good feed, when she'd successfully planted a bug and a micro camera._

 _His final duty was backup, if Carina got in trouble_ , _he would become the cavalry riding to the rescue._

 _Everything was going fine until a little girl, six or seven years old_ , _came riding into the park on a small bicycle. She'd come down the sidewalk into the park, while her mother watched her like an eagle from the front porch of their house._

 _Things happened quickly, the mother suddenly left the porch to go inside the house. I assumed there was something cooking on the stove or she'd heard the cry from another child. I guess I'll never know why she left the porch so quickly._

 _Seconds later, the little red-headed girl suddenly fell off the bike onto the concrete._

 _She scrapped her knee and her right hand. She stood up shakily and looked around. There was no one around. Two trickles of blood were running down her right leg and onto her sock. She looked over towards her mother_ , _who wasn't there anymore, and started to howl. The tears were running down her face, she was red in the face, and no one was there for her. I knew the feeling._

 _I'm not an idiot, I knew I should do nothing, just let the little girl cry. But that just isn't me. I made a snap judgement and grabbed the first aid kit, yanked opened the van's back door and went and helped the little girl. I could hear Jordan curse under his breath and quickly close the door behind me._

 _Three minutes after I got there_ , _the mother came tearing down the street._

 _A small crowd of four people started to form around us. It took another five minutes for the mother and me to clean the blood off, apply an antiseptic and calm the little girl down. I finally got a smile out of her when I put a bandage on her knee and her right hand and one on her blue bicycle._

 _I walked back to the SDGE van and squared my shoulders for the shit storm to come. When I went back inside_ , _Jordan in a hushed tone cursed me up and down. He must've come from a naval family because I had never heard a couple of the words he called me._

 _Jordan was able to confirm by text with Carina that the mark hadn't reacted to the scene outside his window, she'd been able to distract him._

 _An hour later we watched Carina leave the house. We picked her up two blocks away. I could tell Carina was not happy with me, but said nothing._

 _The debriefing happened back in the LA field office. The Special Agent in Charge of the field office, Andrew Segovia_ , _didn't look happy and sat across the table from me. Sitting beside him was Jordan._

 _Carina sat beside me but wasn't looking at me._

 _Andrew started. "What happened?"_

 _Jordan didn't need any further prodding. He once again using colorful language, explained how I'd broken protocol when on a surveillance mission. He concluded with, "..the child wasn't in any danger. The child was going to live and the mother was just up the street."_

 _He then pointed his finger at me. "Bartowski should never be allowed back into the field. He put Agent Miller's life in danger!"_

 _Andrew then asked Carina for her perspective on the 'incident'. Carina didn't even look at me. "Esteban heard the commotion outside caused by the crying girl. We went to the front window and watched Chuck come and administer basic first aid. The mother joined them and they calmed things down. I convinced Esteban to come back to the couch and talk to me about his fascinating job at the bank. He never suspected he was under surveillance."_

 _Finally, Andrew looked at me. "Any comments on your actions before I write my report, Mr. Bartowski?"_

 _I should've apologized and said I was wrong and it wouldn't happen again. But Jordan had this smug smile on his face._

 _Instead, I spoke up, "I perfectly understand the protocol for agents of the DEA when on surveillance. I also understand why that protocol exists. It exists to protect the life of the undercover agent first and foremost, second to accomplish the mission."_

 _I looked at Jordan_ , _who probably figured he'd ended my days with the DEA. "I made a judgement call in line with the reason for the protocol. First, the mark was not a Cartel member, nor a sicario_ , _and he had no known history of violence; second, I was dressed in the uniform of a SDGE employee, sitting in a SDGE van._

 _"_ _A SDGE employee aiding a child right outside his repair van would appear normal. Not helping the child would be abnormal and suspicious._

 _"_ _So, was Agent Miller in any danger? No, Agent Miller could kill Esteban with one hand tied behind her back and not break a sweat. Did we fail to accomplish the mission? Answer is still no. If anything_ , _I believe my actions 'normalized' the surveillance and made it less suspicious."_

 _There was silence in the room. Jordan snarled at me. "Sounds like horseshit and covering your ass comments. You screwed up!" Jordan and I would not be exchanging Christmas cards._

 _Andrew Segovia cleared his throat. "Mr. Bartowski, you do not get to play fast and loose with our rules." He looked at me and I nodded my head. "However, in this case there was no harm and I'm calling no foul."_

 _I was dismissed and went back to the temporary cubicle they had assigned me. It brought back memories of the Navy Yard back in Washington, all sixty-four square feet of it._

 _An hour later I heard the tap, tap sound of stilettos approaching. Carina came in and sat on the edge of my desk. All of a sudden I smelled lavender from her shampoo, I'll have to ask her the name of the shampoo. A sudden thought of Sarah sprang up, okay bad idea, I should ask Sarah for the name of her shampoo._

 _Carina looked me in the eye. "Chuck, remember in the future that making judgement calls is often based on experience in the field. You don't have a lot of that." What could I say, she was right, so I nodded._

 _As she turned to leave she smiled at me. "The little girl's name is Emily and she's fine." I smiled back at her. "You called the mother, didn't you? You big softie….you." Carina winked at me. "Just make sure you keep that fact to yourself."_

 _So, it looks like I'm still with the DEA._

 _Before Sarah and I parted back in Washington she smiled at me and told me she had a gift for me. I was surprised and a bit embarrassed. Because I didn't have a gift for her. She went to her closet and pulled out a small brown leather bag._

 _Inside the bag were two SAT phones. They were double encrypted and could be used for text and voice. I added a little program of my own to both phones. It took me an hour to get into the software, but once I was there I added my 'ghost' program. It makes it almost impossible to track the location of the caller or sender._

 _We've talked every night. I'd tell her about my day and she'd tell me as much as she could about her day. I know she has a meeting with Graham tomorrow. Sarah told me, "He's been very busy with this secret project." Sarah shared with me that she hadn't been given another assignment. And that was unusual._

 _She has been busy catching up on re-qualification courses at the Farm._

 _Okay, now you're caught up. It's late here. I need to head back to my sisters place in Echo Park. By tomorrow morning, I have to learn the names for fifty different illegal substances that are out on the streets of San Diego and LA._

 _At least I have the weekend off._

 **Langley VA, CIA Headquarters – December 14, 2007**

Graham's secretary waved Sarah right into his office.

It had been an awful, gut wrenching morning as she got ready to meet with Graham. She stepped into his office and her stomach did an immediate flip because sitting across from Graham was none other than Bryce Larkin.

Sarah blinked once and walked to the empty chair beside Bryce.

"Director Graham, Bryce." Sarah was proud of herself, her voice was even and she appeared nonplussed.

Bryce turned in his seat and they locked eyes. "It's good to see you Sarah."

Langston Graham had hoped for more of a reaction from his enforcer. He hid his disappointment well. "Welcome back Agent Walker, I trust your training of our new asset went well?"

He looked down at her file. "I also see you've completed all your re-qualifications and are ready for your next mission."

Sarah nodded, "The training went well, and the person is now with the DEA for the next month. And I'm ready for my next assignment." The words tasted bitter in her mouth.

Bryce knew Sarah Walker and he knew when she was being cagey. What had she been doing? He'd find out.

Graham really didn't care about the asset, Bartaolouski, he was a side show to the main event. He was now only weeks away from activating the beta Intersect. He'd risked everything on the Intersect being a success. He had handpicked six candidates who were ready to be enhanced.

"Agent Walker, you haven't asked about Agent Larkin's presence here." Sarah waited for Graham to fill in the silence. He cleared his throat. "Agent Larkin has single-handedly done a great service for this country. Tell her about operation 'Sandwall'."

Bryce spent ten minutes reading Sarah in and also revealed that an NSA agent almost killed him but Fulcrum kept him alive and rehabbed him. "So you see, Sarah I wasn't a rogue agent. I destroyed the Intersect so Fulcrum wouldn't get their hands on it."

Graham jumped in. "Agent Walker, in five weeks you and Agent Larkin will be resurrected as Mr. & Mrs. Anderson. But first …Agent Larkin has to undergo some further special training."

Sarah felt the earth open up below her feet. Her mask locked into place. There was no outward sign of reaction. The eyes, the eyes, were the key. They turned a cold arctic blue.

Sarah nodded her assent.

Her thoughts flew to Thomas Hardy's book, Tess of the d'Urbervilles.

Sarah had studied the book when she was at Harvard for her English Lit class. In the book, Hardy unleashes a shit storm on Tess. She faces one misfortune after another. In the end, the Institutions and the people around Tess stymied her hopes and wore her down. They took away her dreams and finally sentenced Tess to death in a miscarriage of justice.

Sarah thought of the last line of Tess of the D'Urbervilles _. And the God's had their way with poor Tess._

And that's what Sarah was feeling in that moment, that she was a helpless pawn in some cosmic game played by unfeeling gods.

Graham looked at Bryce. "Bryce, I wonder if you could give me a moment with Agent Walker?"

Once they were alone, Graham handed Sarah a file. "In one week, this woman will be passing through Rome. Mirza Noor is a Malaysian woman, she's a special courier for the Moro pirates. They are involved with human trafficking and arms smuggling. Up until now, they've been a local problem. Not worth our attention.

"Now, however, they're looking to make links with Darul Islam.

"Find Mirza when she lands in Rome. I want her followed and her contact with Darul Islam identified. This is a surveillance mission. Deadly force is authorized if you find yourself in danger at any time."

{o}

Bryce was waiting for Sarah outside Graham's office. "Sarah, can we get together tonight. I need to apologize for leaving you without any explanation. I want to explain things to you, please."

Bryce had lost some weight, but he was still handsome and that smile of his, as always was charming.

They had a history, they used to be more than partners, Sarah wasn't without feelings for him.

Bryce knew from past experience with Sarah that hesitation on her part worked in his favor. "I'll grab a bottle of red, we'll order takeout and meet at your apartment." The thought flashed through Sarah's mind in less than a second. _Not in a million years are you getting back in my apartment._

Sarah shook her head. "No, I'll meet you at ENTYSE wine bar, 7:30."

Sarah turned away from Bryce and walked down the hall. When she got into the hall and knew she was alone, she leaned her head against the wall and gently banged it once.

What the hell was wrong with her? She needed to be careful with Bryce. She didn't want Bryce to know about Chuck and for the moment didn't want Chuck to know about Bryce. Shit.

{o}

 **ENTYSE Wine Bar, McLean VA 7:30pm **

Bryce had grabbed a typical 'spy' table, secluded but with access to the exits. He'd already ordered a Domaine Bosquet Malbec that he knew Sarah loved. He'd spent a long time sorting out what he would wear. He knew, from their time together as Mr. & Mrs. Anderson, Sarah liked a smart casual look.

Bryce smile when Sarah came walking through the door. He approved of her black dress that cut off at the knees and the black jacket. Always the gentleman, he stood up and was going to give her a kiss on the cheek.

Sarah nimbly avoided the kiss by sitting down quickly. She saw the bottle of wine and how Bryce was dressed. She knew that Bryce would attempt to press every one of her buttons to win her back before the end of the night. She only felt only the tinniest bit of guilt knowing that Bryce was going to be very disappointed.

Bryce gave her the smile. "Sarah, let me tell you what happened. Why I went rogue and about Operation Sandwall.

Bryce took the next twenty minutes to tell Sarah how he'd stumbled across Fulcrum's plot. How he'd convinced Fulcrum he was in possession of the Intersect.

Sarah wasn't heartless, so she reacted to Bryce's story. He told her of his near death experience after he was shot in the chest by the NSA agent. She didn't manage to hide her shock when Bryce said the NSA agent was none other than John Casey.

"So, Sarah, I really didn't leave you or abandon you. Well, I did, but it was for the best and noblest of reasons." He looked at her. "Sarah, this is who we are, this is what we do. I knew you would understand because you're just like me."

Bryce reached across the table and put his hand on top of Sarah's. "Sarah, when we renew our partnership in five weeks as Mr. & Mrs. Anderson, I'm going to be a much better spy than before. Together, we're going to crush Fulcrum."

Sarah sat back in her chair and slowly removed her hand from Bryce's touch.

If she hadn't met Chuck, if she wasn't in the midst of wanting to change who she was, she would've agreed with Bryce. In the past, there had only been the mission. You always accomplished your mission, failure wasn't in her spy vocabulary.

Sarah gave Bryce a weak smile. "Bryce I'm glad you didn't die, truly. And I follow orders, if Graham wants me to partner with you again, then so be it. But, it will be strictly professional, there will be no side benefits."

She fixed his eyes with her cool arctic blue look. "Strictly professional."

Bryce knew there was someone else, a rival for her affections. Bryce loved the hunt, he loved winning. Whoever this new man in Sarah's life was, he would find out who he was. What his weaknesses were and how to exploit them to his advantage. "I completely understand Sarah, strictly professional."

The rest of the evening proceeded under a bit of a dark cloud. Sarah skipped dessert and said she was tired and left as soon as she could.

{o}

Sarah called Dr. Owens private number from her car. She got her voice mail.

"Dr. Owens, I need to see you again, privately. I'll be paying your bill, not the CIA. I need your help and possibly for you to reach out to some of your contacts."

Sarah then made another call. She had the weekend off and no desire to be in Washington or near Bryce Larkin.

{o}

 **Echo Park– Friday, December 15, 2007 – 9pm**

Sarah had arrived at LAX ninety minutes ago. She'd hired a rental and was now standing in the courtyard of this lovely two-story, ten-unit Spanish-style courtyard condominium building. She loved the fountain in the courtyard.

She remembered the last time she'd been near this building and the chain of events that had followed. She shook off those memories. Her hand hovered ready to knock. All her actions had been spontaneous, the booking of the last minute ticket, coming out here and not calling Chuck ahead of time. Was she running away from Bryce? Or, was she running towards Chuck?

Sarah smiled because the answer was obvious to her.

Sarah Walker was nervous because as soon as she knocked, she suspected she would be plunged instantaneously into the midst of his family. After all, this was his sister's apartment, and her fiancé, Captain Awesome. Sarah reminded herself to call him Devon.

She knocked, two, four, six seconds and all of sudden Chuck was looking at her. Delight and surprise danced in his brown eyes.

"Chuck, surprise. I didn't call…" Sarah didn't get to finish her explanation, as his lips captured hers and he pulled her towards him.

The kiss went on and on, finally Sarah heard Ellie's voice. "Chuck, I hope you're going to introduce your friend to us…I assume you do know her?"

Ellie finally got to see the tall leggy blonde clearly. "Sarah Walker! It's you."

Ellie punched Chuck in the shoulder. "Chuck, why didn't you tell us Sarah was coming?"

{o}

 **Three Hours Later**

Sarah was still awake but cuddled in close to Chuck. He was snoring lightly. Her feet were tucked in close to his warm feet. She knew that once she did drift off to sleep, it would be a deep and undisturbed rest. Chuck made everything safe and warm.

She smiled at the memory of Chuck's reaction when she came out of the bathroom in her newly acquired purple negligee.

The purple negligee had been an ignitor switch to their explosive lovemaking. The memory of their lovemaking caused her to wiggle closer to Chuck and put her leg on top of his.

The evening together with Ellie and Devon had been….well interesting. At first there was a little awkwardness because she couldn't really tell them a lot about her past life. Chuck had been great in helping her through this rough patch.

As the wine flowed, all four of them started to relax in each other's company. Ellie told Sarah stories about Chuck growing up and how she and Devon had met at medical school. Ellie didn't miss much and had seen how Sarah was holding onto Chuck's hand and arm as they chatted.

Sarah liked Ellie and Devon, they were in love with each other and on the verge of planning their wedding. She envied their straight forward life and how full of hope they were about their future together.

She needed this night with Chuck because tomorrow she had to tell him about Bryce.

She was frightened that Chuck would react badly and put strain on their brand new relationship. Her spirits sank even further when she wondered what his reaction would be to eventually finding out his girlfriend was a government assassin.

Increasingly Sarah was having difficulty compartmentalizing who she was and what she did. The rooms in her mind and soul that she shoveled her feelings and memories into, the good, the bad and the ugly, were starting to strain the doors that kept them closed.

She imagined she could hear the hinges creaking with the ever increasing pressure.

She would see Dr. Owens on Monday when she returned to Washington. God, she fervently hoped the session with the therapist would give her some tools to cope with this new relationship with Chuck.

A relationship that was playing havoc with, up until recently, what had been an orderly and sadly predictable life. She sensed how truly odd it was to call her past life as a CIA agent and assassin as an orderly existence.

Chuck, while still sleeping, changed his position in bed and put his hand across her breasts. Sarah changed her position and leaned in. Her lips softly brushed his lips to see if he would notice, maybe even wake up.

Sadly, not too much of a reaction, Sarah had exhausted him. She laid her head onto his chest and slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.

{o}

 **Next Day**

 **Cabrillo Beach, San Pedro CA- 4pm**

Chuck had suggested they come to this place. It was one of his favorite spots.

He told Sarah, as they drove towards the ocean, that after his dad left him an Ellie alone, money was tight. They didn't have a car so they would grab the 92 bus, then the silver line to get here from the Echo Park area. It would take them almost two hours to get here.

Chuck gave her a smile. "….it was a cheap day, with four hours of travel, to get to and from the beach. It didn't matter, Ellie and love this place."

They sat beside each other. It was breezy but sunny, the temperature was only 65F so they huddled close together with a blanket over their legs.

Sarah plucked up her courage. "Chuck, I know who your roommate was when you were at Stanford. Chuck quickly turned his head. "What, you know Bryce Larkin from Connecticut?" Chuck's eyes clouded a little with the memory of Bryce Larkin.

Sarah took the next five minutes to tell Chuck that Bryce didn't go into accounting. In fact he was a spy and that for a period of time she and he had been partners. The next piece was so hard for her to say. "Chuck for several months we….uhhh…..the two of us…got together, sexually."

Sarah had chosen her words very carefully when talking about Bryce.

In her mind, she and Chuck were not just getting together or hooking up….sexually. It was much, much more than that. She wanted to use the word 'lovers'. But even that word wasn't enough to fully describe her feelings about him.

Sarah Walker knew about the concept of being in love. Concepts are fine as long as they are out there, distant from you so you can observe them as an academic exercise and they don't touch you.

Ahh, but now she was struggling with the dawning realization that she was head over heels in love with Chuck Bartowski and was clueless about how to really tell him….tell him ….so he would fully grasp the depth of what she was feeling for him.

What happened with Bryce didn't come close to where Chuck was leading her…had already taken her.

In hind sight she and Bryce had adrenaline fueled sex together, pure and simple. The emotions and feelings they shared when they were in bed together faded almost as quickly as the dew on the grass on a hot sunny morning.

Chuck turned his head and looked out over the Pacific. The silence stretched and stretched. Finally, he spoke. "I wasn't entirely honest with you Sarah…..I mean about Stanford. I know it was Bryce who set me up to make it appear that I had cheated. He got me kicked out." He sighed deeply, "I still don't know why he did it? Sleeping with my fiancé, Jill, well….never mind."

Sarah could see Chuck working hard to shake away those painful memories from Stanford. Chuck needed several seconds before he was ready to continue.

"So, the thing with Bryce is it …..over?"

Sarah wanted to touch him but didn't dare. "Yes, I like to work alone now, and if our paths ever did cross again, then it would be strictly professional."

Sarah took a deep breath. "I told you Chuck, you're my guy. There's no one else, there will not be anyone else who will take your place."

Chuck remembered Bryce Larkin's charm and easy way with the women of Stanford. "He was very popular with the ladies. I had to vacate our room a bunch of times to uhhh…."

Sarah cut him off and put her arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. "Chuck, charm can be veneer thin. Often, it hides a man's insecurities, sometimes it hides much darker things." Sarah kissed him quickly on the lips.

"You are truly charming, I see you and often melt inside. No other man has ever had that effect on me."

Sarah stood up and brushed the sand from her jeans. She reached down and pulled him up. "Chuck, I want you take me out dancing tonight." Chuck groaned, he didn't think he was a very good dancer.

"No groaning Chuck. We're going dancing and then you'll take me back to your room and ..." Sarah didn't complete the sentence. She smiled at him in a way that increased his heart beat. She grabbed his hand. "I have another little negligee that I think you'll like."

As they walked back to the car, she felt sorry for poor Chuck and sad for herself.

Tomorrow, she would tell him about her 'wet' work for the CIA. She feared for them, for their relationship, when she shared that revelation.

She made a conscious effort and laid that worry aside. _Tomorrow will take care of tomorrow, today is today_. _I do love this man and somehow I will find the words to tell him, tonight I will show him._

 ** _A/N2_** _\- For those who have immersed themselves in Thomas Hardy's writings. I know the proper ending for his book Tess of the d'Urbervilles. I paraphrased it to make it less obtuse._


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 **A/N-** So, we enter into the final three chapters. Thanks to all for the reviews and PMs. Thank you michaelfmx for editing this story and your valued input. I've run out of verses from Keats but thought this quote might be fitting for Sarah.

 _"_ _Hinder me? Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!"_

 _Then Merry heard in all sounds of the hour the strangest. It seemed that Dernhelm laughed, and the clear voice was like the ring of steel.  
"But no living man am I! You are looking upon a woman. Eowyn am I, Eomund's daughter. You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him."_

 _Lord of The Rings, Return of the King._

 **Echo Park– Sunday, December 17, 2007 – 9am**

Sarah couldn't sleep anymore. In spite of her best efforts, her body clock was still on Washington time. She looked over at Chuck, who was in a deep sleep. She smiles at him, he was a complex and fascinating mixture of a grown man with the enthusiasm and vigor of a teenage boy.

Chuck said he didn't like dancing but was actually not a bad dancer, especially after he'd had one or two drinks.

Once again she'd noticed that he was very self-conscious about her being affectionate with him in public, plus he lacked confidence. She made sure that everyone on the dance floor knew Chuck was the center of her world. Sarah smiled at the thought of helping him become more confident in himself in the future.

At the last moment Chuck had begged Ellie and Devon to go out dancing with them. Sarah and Ellie had danced with each other when Devon and Chuck feigned exhaustion and pleaded to sit down and have another drink.

They'd returned at midnight because Devon had a full day today.

Sarah's black satin negligee with lace on the bust had been a bigger hit than the purple one. Chuck had sucked in his breath when she entered into the candlelit bedroom.

Sarah looked over at him as he snored away and was warmed by the memory of last night ….but she desperately needed to pee and get some caffeine.

She went into the kitchen and saw a sleep tousled but smiling Ellie sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of coffee. "Good morning."

Ellie gave Sarah a warm smile.

Standing in front of her near the kitchen table was a tall, leggy blonde. Apart from her mussed up hair, Sarah looked like she had just left a Paris runway. A sheer black laced robe barely covered a sensational looking black satin negligee.

"Did my brother die happy? Or is he still breathing?"

Ellie's comment shocked Sarah, and she barely prevented herself from blushing. But Ellie's eyes were dancing with laughter.

Sarah relaxed. "He's….ahh… resting from his labors."

Sarah grabbed a coffee and sat down across from Ellie. Sarah was just getting to know Ellie so she rejected several possible responses to Ellie's joking about her and Chuck having sex.

Finally, her eyes dancing with mirth she nonchalantly said , "Devon must really like your name, because I heard him repeat it a lot after we all went to bed."

Ellie snorted. "Fair enough, I'll stop teasing you. By the way, we had a lot of fun dancing with you guys last night."

They chatted amiably for several minutes.

Ellie sat back and looked carefully at a woman she barely knew. "Sarah, my brother is in love with you." Sarah blinked at Ellie's directness. Sarah decided to be equally direct. "I know, he hasn't said the words ….but I agree with you."

Ellie had no doubt that Sarah was one of the most guarded women she'd ever met. But this was Chuck, so she pressed on. "I'm less than a mother, but I am more than a sister to Chuck. So, I'm going to be blunt."

Sarah's eyes narrowed and she sat back and braced herself for Ellie's next question.

"Sarah, you're a beautiful, sophisticated and an intelligent woman. I'm pretty sure you can have almost any man you want. I love Chuck, but that doesn't blind me to his lack of confidence, his boyishness and lack of sophistication…compared to you"

Sarah wondered where the hell Ellie was headed with these comments.

Ellie rested her chin in the palm of her hand and looked right at Sarah. "I don't want my brother's heart broken, when you move on. So, if he's a fling for you and you're…"

Sarah couldn't sit still any longer, now that she knew where the conversation was headed. "Ellie, I'm crazy about your brother. I've no intention of moving on." Sarah was surprised with how angry she was becoming.

"Chuck may break my heart, but I promise you, I'll never break his."

Ellie angled her head because she was perplexed by Sarah's comment. "How on earth will Chuck break your heart, my God Sarah, he adores you?"

Sarah needed more caffeine and got up to refill her cup. "Ellie, you know I work for the CIA." Ellie nodded.

"I'm going to tell Chuck some of the things I've had to do as an agent…..dangerous things…..distasteful things. He may find my….my past too difficult to handle…."

Sarah was walking a tightrope here, she sighed deeply. "Ellie, I'm not the girl next door. In fact, I can be….no… not can be….I am…. a dangerous woman in a dangerous world. I really can't say anymore."

Ellie didn't doubt for a second that Sarah might well be a dangerous woman. But now, for the first time since she'd met her, she believed that Sarah was in love with Chuck. She had no doubts, even though Sarah hadn't said it in so many words.

"Sarah, let me tell you something about Chuck, and I'll compare him to the man I love.

"Devon is intelligent, he's a gifted surgeon, he's the guy with the rock hard abs, great athletic ability and like Chuck says… he's really awesome. But Chuck is mentally and spiritually tougher than Devon will ever be."

Sarah leaned forward, riveted to the conversation as she tried to catch every word.

"Chuck and I learned to survive and adapt. Both of us should've gone into foster care….."

Ellie caught herself and paused. "…listen, no poor me, or poor us speeches. What I want tell you is…..Chuck loves you, because of that fact ….it's virtually impossible for him to cast you aside because of your….your past…..your whatever."

Ellie had one more thought to share with Sarah. "Chuck and I, because of what our parents did to us, still struggle with abandonment issues. We are hyper sensitive to betrayal when it comes our way. Jill's betrayal of Chuck with that bastard Larkin put him into a hell of a tailspin."

Ellie was finding this hard, but she needed to share it with Sarah. "When I first met Devon, when we first started dating… he had a period where…..you know that Devon was a male model?…..well, let's just say …he took me for granted."

Sarah could see Ellie's eyes grow sad with the memory of Devon 'taking her for granted'.

Sarah thought she knew what Ellie was referring to.

Ellie composed herself. "Even though I knew I was in love with Devon …well…..I'm no saint, I was beyond furious with him and refused to see or talk with him for months. He crawled over broken glass, that I was spreading on the ground,… in order to make amends ….and eventually, I took him back."

Ellie stood up. "Sarah, my brother will survive almost anything you can throw at him….except maybe betrayal….it hurts us, it cuts us too deeply. Okay, I've said my piece. I've got to be at the hospital by noon."

As Ellie walked past Sarah to head for her bedroom, she briefly touched Sarah on the shoulder and whispered, "Good luck with the sharing."

{o}

 **Three Hours Later- Noon.**

 **Maison23- Room 832, 322 North Pass Avenue, Burbank CA**

Sarah had to catch the Delta red eye flight, at 10pm this evening, leaving from LAX. She'd get into Reagan International at 6:15am the next morning. She wanted to spend as much time with Chuck as possible.

They needed somewhere private and separate from Chuck's life, especially away from Echo Park, in order for her to tell him about the 'wet' work.

The CIA had an arrangement with Maison23, through a shell corporation, to hold two rooms for their agents. She had stayed here two or three times over the years. The room was a little too green for her tastes, but would have to do for now.

They ordered lunch from room service and took their time eating it. Sarah picked away at her salad, her appetite had left her with the thought about the revelation she was about to make. Her nerves were stretched like violin strings, and she felt the tension throughout her body, it made her slightly nauseous.

Chuck was in a talkative mood and was telling Sarah about his mom, at least what he could remember about her.

Sarah was having trouble paying attention to him. God, she needed a drink.

She got up and opened the mini bar and grabbed a little green bottle of Glen Livet. She looked at Chuck and he shook his head, _no thanks_. She sat down and took two large sips of the single malt and started.

"Chuck, I've already swept this room for any bugs. What I'm about to tell you is for your ears only." She waited for him to acknowledge her request. She saw him tense up.

"Chuck, Director Graham and my instructors at the Farm saw something in me. I didn't know it was there,… in a way I wish they hadn't seen it. I wish they hadn't developed it." Sarah took another sip of her drink. _God, this was hard. Start, just start._

"Chuck, in many ways I'm what you would expect a CIA agent to be. I can do covert work, surveillance, counter surveillance, counter terrorism work, intelligence gathering….I can do all of that and please don't think me conceited, I do it well."

Sarah finished her drink and got up and grabbed another little green bottle from the minibar. She poured it on top of the ice already in her glass.

Chuck had never seen Sarah this jumpy. He felt her tension ratcheting up and his left leg started tapping out a rapid rhythm. "Sarah, are you Okay?"

Sarah's response was curt. "Chuck, let me get this out….please."

Sarah steeled herself before she finally managed to say the words, "As it turns out I'm very good at…..killing."

Chuck sat back in his chair and blinked several times. "Do you mean…like in self-defence…?"

Sarah sadly and slowly shook her head. "No, Chuck I mean the CIA sends me out to kill people.

"Graham and the instructors slowly developed that side of me. I'm wired differently from you….probably from most people. I have the ability, for a time, to remove myself from the emotional equation involved with the act of killing. I'm given a mission to do and I carry it out."

Chuck took a moment to find his voice. "How…how long have you been doing this?"

In a soft voice, Sarah replied. "For about two and half years.

"Chuck, I'm very careful to make sure that these people I…. they're horrible people. I make some sense of what I do… by telling myself that by taking their life, I'm saving tens, hundreds, maybe thousands of lives down the road."

As she talked, Sarah was carefully watching Chuck for any signs of how he was taking the things she was telling him. She fully expected him to bolt any second now, fleeing away from her. _Quick! Run from the monster._

Chuck didn't run, but he was clearly damn uncomfortable. He got up and walked to the window, looking out pensively.

Sarah needed to tell him one more thing….before he started asking….asking her to justify her actions….to give some reason, some moral defense of her actions.

"Chuck, I've never killed anyone of my own volition. I've killed in self defense and when ordered by executive order, and then only when…. I felt the evidence presented to me by my bosses merited me doing so."

Chuck turned and walked back towards the bed, sitting down near her, albeit somewhat warily.

Chuck's dilemma was that he could well believe Sarah was capable of killing in cold blood. He'd been in that interrogation room, alone with her. He'd seen those blue eyes, drained of any warmth. He'd seen the way she'd held the knife, like it was a part of her, like she'd used it before.

His dilemma was that he also saw the other parts of Sarah Walker. She loved him. He knew that, and he knew she struggled with telling him so. She cared about her best friend Carina and would risk her life to save her. Sarah Walker had depths he was just now discovering. Yes, she was complex, mysterious and difficult to be with. Yes, she was definitely 'wired' differently than him. But, he loved her.

Sarah let the silence grow. She prepared herself for the inevitable questions and listed them in her mind.

 _'_ _How many people have you killed in cold blood?', 'Do you enjoy killing people?', 'What's it like to take a person's life.', 'Do you feel sad or…..do you feel anything at all….when you're doing it?'_

She hated the fact he would ask these question…. but she would answer them all. She knew by the end of his questions, after she'd answered them truthfully…..he would distance himself from her and their short wonderful time together would come to an end.

Sarah waited and fought back the tears as she wrestled with the sadness rising up within her.

Chuck cleared his throat, he was finding it hard to get his question out. "Did you ever not carry out a …a kill order?"

Sarah blinked twice. In a thousand years, she would never have expected him to ask that question. He was looking at her with an intensity that unsettled her. She knew that her answer to this single question would make or break them as a couple.

The spy part of her screamed at her to lie to him. _Don't you dare tell him the truth, that's our secret, if they ever find out_ , _you'll end up in prison or worse!_

She stood up and walked to the window. She could feel Chuck's eyes on her back, following her every movement. Finally, she sighed and walked back towards him. She sat down beside him on the edge of the bed.

She needed to be near him as she told him the truth.

"Twice, no…. two and a half times….. I didn't carry out my orders to kill someone."

Chuck gave her a surprised look. "Sorry…..two and half? I don't think…..uhhhh…. that doesn't' make any sense?"

Sarah shrugged her shoulders. "The most recent person was….."

Sarah related the story to him of her encounter with her former trainer, Gail Ardis, in Edinburgh. At the end of telling him the story, she looked into his eyes and thought they were warmer, softer. Sarah had a thought flash through her mind, _Maybe there's hope for me yet._

"The next person was….he was an eighteen year old hacker, named 'Gars'. It means 'the wraith' in Latvian.

His real name was Vsevolod Bobrov." The color drained from Chuck's face. He knew of 'Gars'. They'd exchanged several pieces of hacker code over the years.

But 'Gars' had disappeared fifteen months ago. Chuck had wondered what had happened to him.

 _My God, the CIA and the NSA actually sent out kill orders on elite hackers._

Sarah saw his reaction. "Chuck are you okay?" Chuck didn't answer, just stood up. "I think I need a drink."

He walked over to the minibar and grabbed a little white bottle of Chopin vodka. He almost laughed at the thought that popped into his head. _Vodka, how appropriate._

He managed to pour his drink without his hand shaking too much.

After he sat down beside her she continued, "Bobrov was from Riga. His mother was Latvian, his father was from Papashevo, in Russia, just across the border with Latvia.

"He was an elite hacker, on the same level as Orion or the Piranha…." Chuck was sipping his vodka, trying to calm himself. When he heard Sarah say 'Piranha' he started to cough as the vodka went down the wrong way.

Sarah leaned over and patted his back, "…are you going to be okay…do you want me to stop?" Chuck finally stopped coughing and wiped the tears from his eyes. "No, no…continue…I guess I'm not used to drinking hard liquor, like vodka….I'm okay…really."

The spy in here filed away his strange reaction when she mentioned Orion, she would examine it later. "The National Security Council, through the NSA and CIA, tried to recruit him online. He refused to work for the US Government.

"He was truly gifted, he'd broken into several NATO databases and stolen thousands of dollars from local banks in Latvia. The CIA and the NSA were very concerned he would eventually be recruited by the Russians, the Iranians or that a terrorist organization would possibly grab him.

"One of our analysts finally tracked him down to a physical location. It was an internet café in Riga. I was sent to carry out the termination order. I watched his movements for two days. I also confirmed that 'Gars' and Bobrov were one in the same person. Finally, the opportunity presented itself to carry out my mission."

Sarah hated to dredge up missions from the past. They should stay in the rooms in her mind where she stuffed them away.

"Bobrov lived with his parents, they were out at some church function. He was all alone in his room, his headphones were on and he was oblivious to everything else.

Sarah looked at Chuck. His eyes were wide with anticipation.

"I slipped into his room and pointed my gun at his head. Chuck, he was a boy in a man's body, he hadn't done anything wrong….yet….something prevented me from pulling the trigger. I stood there wondering what the hell I was going to do…..then I saw a way out, for both of us."

Sarah went on to tell Chuck that she scared the shit out of Bobrov as she stood in his bedroom holding a Ruger with a silencer, all dressed in black. She convinced him to work with MI6.

Sarah called a contact in MI6 and made sure that Bobrov went with the MI6 handlers, when they arrived the next day.

The deal she made with MI6 was that they would confirm that they recruited Bobrov before she'd come into Latvia. Sarah received assurances from 'C' himself that he would honor their special arrangement.

Graham was not happy that she hadn't carried out the termination order. But what could he do? He checked her story with 'C' and his other contacts in MI6. They confirmed the timelines. The termination order on Bobrov was rescinded by the National Security Council.

The vodka had relaxed Chuck. Sarah's decision not to kill the elite hacker was a magical tonic to his soul. He smiled at her. "So,… you don't always follow orders?" Sarah smiled at him for the first time. "Chuck, I'm not a terminator unit from the future…"

Chuck gave her a weak laugh. "And I can't tell you just how glad I am to find that out." He reached out and put his hand on top of hers. "Sarah, I know this isn't easy for you…..but you said, two and a half….?"

Sarah was almost drained emotionally, this was so hard for her.

She had never talked this much in such a short span of time. "Okay, his name was Evgeny Mishakov. He was a cold war relic. He was specially trained by the KGB and placed in section thirteen, he was one of the alpha team members."

Sarah looked up at Chuck. She realized he had no clue what she was talking about. "Chuck, section thirteen of the KGB was the one that sent out the assassins." Chuck nodded, he got it.

"Evgeny was sixty-five years old. He lived in the Ukraine and had been retired for the last ten years. Chuck do you remember when Alexander Litvinenko was assassinated in London last year?"

Chuck clearly remembered the incident. "Yes, supposedly the Russians used polonium-210 to poison him….horrible, ugly way to die, I imagine."

Sarah continued, "This is not known by the public. But MI6 did retaliate for the FSB killing Litvinenko... and so did several other nations. There was up until that point an unwritten rule that stated you didn't kill ex-spies in the other guy's back yard. The reason was obvious, if you went down that path, then the killings and vendettas would spiral out of control. Apparently in the FSB's mindset, that rule was no longer in effect.

"Evgeny was considered one of the best in his day, he was responsible for three intelligence agents' deaths over his career, one CIA and two Mossad agents. I was assigned the mission to terminate him."

Chuck's shoulders sagged. This all sounded so petty, governments carrying out vendetta killings.

"Evgeny was living in Pisky, not too far from Chernobyl. I cornered him in a back alley, near a bar he frequented. Before I could get my first shot off, there was a gun in his hand and he fired twice. One shot grazed my left side. We both took cover and fired at each other. I had forty years on him but my God could that man shoot.

"Finally, we stopped firing at each other. I quickly reloaded and waited. I could hear him coughing. It was a wet, racking your lungs cough. A minute later he threw out his gun and a backup piece."

Sarah then quickly related how Evgeny slowly stood up with his hands raised. He told her to finish her work, he didn't care….. he was dying from lung cancer.

Sarah told Chuck that her training told her to shoot him…. then and there …but she didn't. The reason was because she had a sudden glimpse of her future, being old, and alone, used up and most likely cast aside and forgotten by her government.

Evgeny saw Sarah bleeding on her left side and laughed. ' _So, the old fox can still shoot straight…enough of this spy on spy shit… take me home and I will fix you up, I've had a lot of practice. Also, I have something for you_.' He smiled at Sarah, _'…then pretty assassin_ , _you can complete your mission and kill me_ , _but only after I have one more cigarette.'_

Sarah stood up and paced back and forth as she told Chuck the end of the story. "Evgeny did patch me up. The whole time I had a gun pointed at him as he cleaned my wound and put a gauze bandage over it.

It didn't bother him in the least that I didn't trust him. He finally sat down and coolly smoked his last cigarette.

"He was assessing me the whole time. ' _You remind me of me, when I was your age, except I would have shot you back in the alley, as soon as you stood up.'_ He started to laugh and then he started to cough for a whole minute. At last he stubbed out his final cigarette. ' _Do you know how Roman senators ended their life, my pretty CIA assassin?'_

"I told him I did, they cut themselves and bled out in a hot bath.

He was a little impressed with my answer. ' _So, let me make you a living legend. Let me die in a warm bath, like a Roman senator. We'll make sure that there is no evidence that you were ever here….that way it will look like a suicide. But your bosses and my bosses will know you took down the great Evgeny Mishakov and made it look like a suicide. The perfect assassination, the perfect assassin... who leaves no trace.'_

"Chuck, at that point I didn't want to kill Evgeny, so I agreed. He was dying anyways. He waved me over to his laptop. He then asked _for my account number for my 'out in the cold fund'_.

"I didn't answer. He laughed at me, _'Come now my pretty assassin, I know you possess such a fund, please don't' be coy, not now, I will be dead in an hour and there is no one left in my life. You might as well have my money. Listen, I'll set the account transfer up, you can key your account code in and press enter. Then take the damn laptop, I don't care."_

Sarah stopped talking. The silence between them stretched.

They sat beside each other on the edge of the bed. She was longing to just lie down and close her eyes…she had never felt so exhausted, even during her toughest mission. Chuck was lost in thought and she dearly wished she could read his mind. "Chuck, I'll understand if you want to leave and we never…."

Sarah didn't get to finish her sentence. "Sarah, I don't think you need to tell me anymore about your 'wet' work. Or any other nasty bits from your past, if you don't want to."

He paused and made sure they were looking into each other's eyes. "Listen, as far as I'm concerned, the problems of the past are your business. The problems of your future are my privilege."

He stood up. "Come on… we need to get out this room and go for a walk, get some fresh air, okay?"

Sarah didn't move from the bed. She was still processing what Chuck had just said. _What did he mean by the problems of the past are my business? And what the hell is he getting at... talking about my future. Is my future linked with his future? Is that what he's saying?_

Chuck reached down with his right hand to help her up. "Come on Sarah, let's go for a walk…..together."

{o}

They'd returned from a long walk in a nearby park. They'd exchanged very few words, both of them caught up in their own thoughts. Chuck never let go of her hand and that calmed her thoughts as she wondered what was next for them.

When they got back inside the room, Sarah tentatively asked Chuck if he would just lie down with her and hold her. They both quickly drifted off to sleep.

When Sarah woke up two hours later, Chuck was propped up on his elbow, and his head was resting on his hand. He was looking at her. His brown eyes were soft and full of warmth. The beginnings of a smile played on his lips.

Sarah looked at him. "Chuck, what's going on …why are you looking at me like that?"

He moved in close towards her. "I'm wondering if you could show me where Evgeny's bullet grazed you."

Sarah gave him a funny look…. but she reached down with both hands and hiked up her blouse and pointed at the small scar with her finger.

Chuck leaned over and gently brushed the old wound with his lips, causing Sarah's breath to hitch, and mumbled. "I'm really glad he only grazed you." His warm kisses continued and slowly moved closer and closer to her belly button….. Sarah reached down and buried her fingers into his curly hair. Her heart started to hammer….."Chuuck…."

{o}

 **Maison23-room 803, 8:00pm**

"Chuck, Chuck…wake up, I need to shower and head for the airport."

She really needed to talk with Dr. Owens because she knew with certainty she could no longer be Graham's enforcer, or anybody's enforcer for that matter.

{o}

 **Next Day**

 **Van Nuys Airport, Monday December 18, 2007 – 9am**

The C-21A Lear jet landed with a squeal as the tires gripped onto the tarmac.

John Casey was a happy man because he'd hitched a ride with an old colleague, Lieutenant-Colonel George Bennison, USAF. Casey was recently checked out on the C-21A. His colleague in the left seat allowed him to handle the approach and the landing.

When Casey got off the plane, he was carrying two stainless steel suitcases. Each case contained a state of the art DARPA prototype that Bartowski had requested.

General Beckman had approved the use of the NSA equipment with the proviso that the equipment was under Casey's care the whole time.

The door of the C-21A closed and it taxied away to head for the short hop to the USAF base in El Segundo. Casey walked to a private lounge area, sat down and waited.

He wondered to himself how it was that his life had gotten so entangled with Bartwoski's. Casey wondered for a second, if instead of recruiting the tall nerd back in Burbank three and a half years ago he should've just shot him.

Casey and the General had agreed to assist because they both hated traitors and people who betrayed their oath and their country. If indeed, this Amy was a bad egg, then he was on board with putting her away in a super max prison for a couple of decades.

{o}

Carina, Zondra and Chuck arrived two minutes later. Chuck got out of the car to greet Casey, but only got a grunt in return. Casey put the cases in the trunk and saw Carina and Zondra sitting in the car. "Bartowski, what is with you and all these CIA skirts?

"Is that CIA blonde… what's her name, Walker? Is she also a member of your little harem?"

Chuck blushed. "Of course not, our relationship is strictly professional." Casey smiled, the moron was such a terrible liar.

{o}

 **Safe House-Oxnard St, Lake Balboa Park**

Amy Monroe had been on her way to a mission in Mexicali when the NSA requested a special meeting with her at this NSA safe house. Apparently, one of their analysts and a computer genius needed to talk with her about one of her previous missions, when she'd been with the CAT squad.

She was told to meet with an agent she'd heard about, John Casey and some guy named Bartowski. She wasn't happy with the detour but the NSA had agreed to meet her here in Van Nuys.

Unknown to the CIA, Augusto had flown up to meet her in Mexicali. Amy would soon be with him...just four or five more hours.

She had been in love with Augusto for years. Amy had worked exceptionally hard to keep Augusto safe from the CAT squad. Walker had suspected something was up, because she kept saying, "..no one was that lucky". To take the heat off her and Augusto, she'd planted the transmitter in Zondra's boot.

Amy was the smallest member of the CAT squad at only five foot six. But she was dangerous and, as it turned out, smarter than the other three. None of them had suspected her. She smiled, Zondra was such an easy patsy to set up. The CAT squad had been dismantled shortly after the incident. And Amy's career had taken off.

Augusto had helped her target and take down other cartels that were in competition with some of his important clients. Graham and the CIA had gladly received the information from her informants and assets to take down and eliminate the cartels she put the bright spotlight on.

She was now one of Graham's favorites, along with Walker and a handful of others.

Amy easily found the NSA safe house on Oxnard St and parked the rental car.

She looked at herself in the rear-view mirror and took stock of herself. Her blonde hair was held back in a ponytail. She was dressed in black designer jeans, a white cotton blouse and a gray colored light weight leather jacket. Amy was wearing a favorite pair of black suede boots with two inch heels.

She knocked on the front door of the two story house, confident she was ready for whatever this last minute meeting was about.

{o}

Chuck had been beyond curious to meet Amy. As she sat down at the kitchen table across from him and Casey, he took a big breath. My God, she was a beautiful woman, but Sarah was more beautiful and not a traitor.

Casey and Chuck had carefully rehearsed their parts.

Casey started, "Agent Monroe, sorry to interrupt your next mission, but we need to confirm some information with you." He looked over at Chuck to plant the seed.

Chuck took ten minutes to go over the latest information on Augusto Gaez. Amy had listened politely but finally offered up, "I'm sorry, I don't have a lot of dealings with Augusto, since my days on a special squad, I was assigned to, ended. I'm not sure how I can be of help?"

Chuck smiled to himself. _Liar, liar, pants on fire._ "Oh, I'm sorry Agent Monroe, I was led to believe that you and the CIA were still trying to take Augusto Gaez down. I mean, he is number fifteen on our terrorist list."

Amy recovered quickly, "Don't get me wrong, I get all the Intel on Gaez like other agents at the CIA and would dearly love to take the bastard down. We came close several times over the years but he eluded us. So, how can I help?"

Casey and Chuck baited the trap.

Casey got up and was pissed, "Well Bartowski, as usual you got it wrong, Operation Varrer Limpo will still go ahead tomorrow as planned. We'll have to trust the informant's information."

Amy spoke Portuguese. The NSA, and most likely the DEA, were putting operation 'clean sweep' into play. She needed to warn Augusto, he needed to know about this latest Intel. But she needed to stay here a little longer and pump these two for more information about the operation. "Listen, can we take a break, I need to grab a smoke? Can we pick this up in say fifteen minutes?"

Amy looked at both of them. "Let me reach out to one of my informants in Sao Paulo, okay?" Casey and Chuck nodded eagerly with grateful expressions.

Amy headed out into the park across the street. Chuck and Casey raced upstairs to the master bedroom that overlooked the park.

Casey had brought Chuck a micro-drone that looked exactly like a dragon fly. This DARPA prototype dragon fly was equipped with a micro camera and a microphone relay. Chuck opened the window and Casey piloted the drone out to follow Amy into the park.

Amy's tradecraft was good.

She walked and slowly smoked her cigarette, all the time looking for a secluded spot where no one could observe her. She bent down and stubbed out the cigarette. At the same time she reached down to the heel of her right boot. The transmitter popped out when she touched the heel in the right spot.

She looked around carefully once again. Trees and bushes hid her actions completely. There was only the sound of buzzing insects and a dragonfly that was darting in and out of the bush in front of her.

She keyed the message into the transmitter. "Operation Varrer Limpo tomorrow? Caution!" She pressed the button and quickly put the transmitter back into its hidden spot.

Casey and Chuck had seen everything in HD on his iPad.

Amy was 'dirty'.

When Amy had pulled out the transmitter, Chuck had been able to read the address number she keyed in. He keyed the address number into the special laptop Casey had brought with him. There were only three laptops like this in existence, for a good reason. The laptops were nicknamed the 'golden key'. Each laptop possessed the codes required to gain instant access to the NSA mainframe and search database at Ft. Mead. Chuck had already pointed the system into the three cell towers near the safe house.

Four minutes later, they had a location for the person who had received her message. The person receiving the message was in Mexicali. Chuck turned to Casey. "We have a location, Mexicali….isn't that where she's headed right after we meet with her?"

Casey and Chuck raced downstairs back to the lounge and TV room.

Amy came back into the safe house after composing herself. She put on her... 'I'm really not that smart' smile.

Casey and Chuck were relaxing on the couch talking amiably. "So Casey, if you were trapped on a desert island, what sandwich would you eat?" Casey had a smile on his face but he would dearly love to smack Bartowski across the top of his head for bringing up such an inane topic.

They both smiled at Amy and then Chuck leaned forward. "Agent Monroe, there's one more piece of Intel the NSA has gathered on Augusto that might interest you."

Casey motioned for her to sit down on the couch with them. Chuck clicked the remote he'd picked up from the coffee table, there was a flicker and finally, displayed on the fifty inch TV screen in vivid HD, she could see herself in the park.

She quickly reached into the pocket of her leather jacket, but it was too late, Casey had an iron grip on her wrist. She also felt the barrel of a gun touch the back of her head. She recognized the voice instantly _. Zondra_! "Hey Amy, good to see you again. By the way, I love your suede boots."

Amy slowly turned around to see Zondra and Carina standing behind her.

Carina pulled out her phone so Amy could see her do it and pressed send. "Thanks Amy, now that we know exactly where Augusto is…..he's in Mexicali… isn't he sweetie…never mind."

The color drained from Amy's face. She'd betrayed her lover.

Carina turned to Casey. "A DEA agent working with the Cuerpo de Fuerzas Especiales should be in Mexicali in under three hours."

Casey had searched Amy for any more weapons. Her hands and feet were zip tied. Casey pushed her back onto the couch. Chuck reached down and tapped Amy's right boot heel. The transmitter popped out. "Well, Zondra looks like your days in the wilderness of Zin are over, you've finally been vindicated."

 **A/N2** _\- I wish I was making this stuff up about the dragonfly drone. I'm not_ _. See_ _pg. 409, Annie Jacobsen's book about DARPA, 'The Pentagon's Brain.'_

 ** _A/N3_** _\- Chapter 14 will not be published until April 18. My apologies, but alas, work and other commitments will take precedent. Fortunately, there are some really excellent on going stories that will captivate you and more than compensate._


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N-** I failed in getting this chapter out by April 18, sorry. To make amends, I will tack on another chapter. I'm woefully behind in responding to reviews and reading some of the other great stories on the site. The drumbeat of real life had me dancing to its beat. Thanks to michaelfmx for editing all the chapters and his valued input.

 _You imagined we had entered unknown country, my friend, when we voyaged across the sea to Amazonia. Yet that was nothing beside the frontier I cross each evening with this woman who is my equal. Each dawn new continents are sighted; each night one alights on shores where no man's sole has trod."_  
― **Steven Pressfield** , **Last of the Amazons**

 **Chapter 14**

 **McLean, VA- December 18** **th** **, 2007 -12:05pm–**

 **6682 Elm St, Private Practice of Dr. Branwen Owens**

Five minutes earlier, Branwen had asked Agent Walker a single question. 'How are you?' Usually, the answer to this open ended question, from this highly guarded and defensive woman would be, 'Okay' or 'fine', always said in a flat monotone.

Today had been quite different, in fact Branwen was wondering if she was reliving the 'Day of the Triffids'. Had the 'Pod People' taken over the real Sarah Walker's body? The beautiful woman in front of her had talked in a passionate and articulate manner about Charles Bartowski, 'Chuck'. It was clear that Sarah Walker was smitten.

Sarah had told her about spending the weekend with Chuck's sister Ellie and her fiancé Devon. She admitted out loud that she was in love with Chuck Bartowski and she was working up the courage to tell him. She freely confessed she could barely stand being apart from him.

Branwen smiled to herself, 'oxytocin' was coursing through Sarah Walker's body and playing havoc with her once neatly ordered universe. But what was happening to Sarah could never be explained by just mere chemicals, no, it was about suddenly and unexpectedly falling in love.

Not for the first time, Branwen reflected on the fact that life had not properly prepared Sarah Walker for meeting her soul mate.

Sarah paused and her gaze shifted from Branwen to the big window.

Snow flurries were dancing madly outside. The cold wind outside blew bitterly and buffeted the people foolish enough to be out on foot. The weather was only going to get worse.

She took a deep breath, shifted her gaze back to Branwen and, unbidden, shared that she'd told Chuck about her partnership and, more importantly, her short relationship with another CIA Agent.

She didn't share who this agent was.

Branwen dearly wanted to move over to the couch and sit down beside Sarah and put her hand on her shoulder, in a motherly fashion, give her a hug and say, "Honey, welcome to being in love. Get used to your whole world being turned upside down. Congratulations and you have my sympathies!"

But Branwen couldn't and wouldn't do that. It would be unprofessional.

She had more important work to do. She needed to help anchor Sarah and lay out before her the consequences that were about to land on her, with almost the same impact as a small meteor, after it crashed through the earth's atmosphere and plunged like a fiery chariot into the ocean.

Branwen wondered if she should actually say to Sarah, _'Agent Walker, there is a tsunami of change coming at you.'_

Instead, she said, "I take it Chuck is head over heels in love with you?" Another quick nod from Sarah, and this time with a coy smile playing on her lips.

Sarah anticipated Dr. Owens' next question and answered out loud. "And…I told him about the special work…the work… I've done for the agency…for Director Graham."

Sarah caught the surprised look on Branwen's face.

Both women lapsed into silence, both pondering the implications of what Sarah had done. It was Branwen who filled the silence, "…AND?..."

Sarah wanted to smile at Dr. Owen's impatient tone, a tone rarely heard in this office. "After I told Chuck about…the work…he asked me… if I'd ever not carried out a termination order." Dr. Owens was once again taken aback. An unusual question from an unusual man.

They were both now treading on very, very thin ice. "Agent Walker, I, of course, don't need to know, nor should you ever repeat the answer you shared with Chuck." Sarah and Dr. Owens exchanged a knowing look that cemented their agreement. The question of _'had she ever not carried out a termination order'_ and her answer to Chuck was now sub-rosa.

Branwen slowly got up and walked to a side table where there was a pitcher of water. She was, of course, curious as hell about what Sarah had told Chuck in answer to his very unusual question. Branwen had an inkling that the answer Sarah had given him had somehow been reassuring.

She poured herself a glass of water and looked over her shoulder at Sarah. "May I get you a glass?" Sarah's mouth felt dry and she nodded. After taking the glass from Branwen, she took two quick sips. "Dr. Owens, I know I'm finished as Graham's enforcer….but how do I get out from under his sway?"

Branwen had reached out to someone she trusted after Sarah and her had last met. A 'someone' she trusted with her life. That person had patiently listened to Branwen's explanation of why Agent Walker could no longer do wet work. Branwen, on behalf of Sarah, asked for a favor.

Her contact had agreed to look into the matter but, as usual, they'd made no promises.

"Sarah, I've reached out to someone who might be able to help you. This is an extremely sensitive matter. As you already know, there are few people who can dissuade Director Graham from his desired course of action, once he's decided on it. I'll call my contact again right after you leave and share that the matter is now extremely urgent, okay?"

Sarah's shoulders sagged just a touch and she gave Branwen a weak thank you smile.

"Listen Sarah, if I go my usual route and advise Graham you're no longer able to do wet work, he'll push back hard. He'll create holy hell, especially if it's one of his enforcers." Sarah lifted her head quickly because Dr. Owen had let the 'cat out of the bag'. So, Graham did indeed have more than one enforcer, she'd always suspected that, it was just like him to build in redundancy.

Sarah and Dr. Owen agreed to meet two days from now. She had to meet Graham and Bryce tomorrow at 9am.

{o}

 **Next Day, Friday December 19** **th** **, 9am**

 **Langley VA, CIA Headquarters – Director Graham's Office**

Bryce and Sarah sat silently on two stiff backed chairs on the other side of Graham's large dark oak desk, patiently waiting for him to stop reading. He was totally focussed on the contents in a purple colored file with three white slashes running diagonally across the front and back. Sarah wondered if this was about the Intersect Project.

She looked down again on the highly polished surface of the oak desk. Apparently, it had been custom made by an Amish cabinet maker from Pennsylvania. Supposedly, the master craftsman lived and worked on a hundred acre farm without any electricity, he used only hand tools and adzes to fashion his creations. Graham had once shared he'd ordered the desk the day he was confirmed by the senate as the new Director.

It was a reward to himself and a statement to all who entered his domain. The message was clear, ' _I am a man of authority and power, I am the chief spearman, the 'primus pilus', of the Republic'._

Sarah and Bryce had exchanged maybe ten words since they'd met in Graham's outer office. She avoided looking at him but could feel his eyes on her. She'd been dreading this meeting and was busily preparing a plan 'B', in case Dr. Owens' contact didn't come through for her.

Langston Graham was a preoccupied man and was absorbed about the latest information on the Intersect. It would go live in ten days! The test results were good and the final six candidates, two women and four men, had all passed. His one regret was that Sarah Walker would not be one of his new 'super agents'.

He was sensing that Agent Walker's usefulness to him might be waning. He couldn't fault her work or her accomplishments, every mission had been carried out successfully. Still, his sixth sense was tingling. It was telling him that she was still a bit of a mustang. He hadn't managed to totally tame her fierce streak of independence, he sensed his control of her was marginal at best. For those reasons he'd struck her name from becoming an Intersect.

He smiled at both of them and they dutifully smiled back at him. The smiles were all part of the game they played with each other. He was happy that Bryce Larkin would soon be an Intersect agent. He had scored highly on the cognitive and visual stimuli test.

And to increase Bryce's effectiveness, he would once again be partnered with Sarah Walker.

The Andersons would ride again and be ten times more effective. Graham smiled to himself about his Cowboy metaphor. This time the Andersons would cut a swath through Fulcrum. They would gut that cancerous organization. Next, he would let slip the Andersons on the cartels, no mercy would be shown to the leaders or their lieutenants.

"Agent Walker, on Friday January 9th, you and Agent Larkin will once again become partners. We'll resurrect the Anderson cover. Between now and then, establish and enhance your 'legacies' and preposition all necessary funding, here, in South America and in Europe.

"Please make sure that all your ongoing cases are passed over to…" He looked down at his desk for the name. "…pass your cases and a list of your active assets over to Agent Alexandra Forrest."

"Do you know her?"

Sarah swallowed the bile that rose in her mouth. "No, sir. I'll contact her immediately and begin the handover work."

Sarah Walker had learned patience, even when every muscle in her body demanded she spring into action. The thought sprang to mind about putting her hands around Graham's throat. It gave her a moment's pleasure.

Langston Graham could be a cruel man. He'd received some reports that Sarah had been working closely with their latest contract employee. He stuck the knife in and gave it a little twist. He cleared his throat.

"Oh….also make sure you hand over the care and feeding of that computer genius you managed to corral for us to Agent Forrest. What was his name….?" And then there it was that kindly smile from Graham, as if Sarah was doing him a favor.

Sarah's eyes flashed for a half second with the anger and hatred she now felt towards Graham. _You son of a bitch._ "His name is Bartowski, sir. Yes, I'll pass his file over to Agent Forrest."

 _There was no damn way she was going to be Bryce's partner again or let Alexandra Forest near Chuck. She racked her brain for some way out of this hideous situation._

Bryce Larkin, to his eternal credit, didn't show any reaction to the mention of Chuck's name. He stopped himself from swinging around and looking at Sarah and blurting out. "Sarah, you recruited Chuck?!"

Bryce felt slightly nauseous. Twice now he'd helped out his old friend, Chuck Bartowski. He'd kept Chuck from being recruited at Stanford. In his mind that had been one of his most altruistic acts, ever. Admittedly, the way in which he'd managed to help his friend had been rather brutal.

Accusing Chuck of cheating and getting him expelled was effective, but it had ended his friendship with the tall guy.

Bryce sighed inwardly, sleeping with Jill Roberts after Chuck had been expelled did slightly tarnish that selfless act. But he quickly reasoned in his mind that he'd still done the noble thing. Chuck's highly developed conscience would've gotten him killed in the spy world.

The second time; Bryce was lying flat on his back gasping for breath. He had his finger on the enter key to send the downloaded Intersect to Chuck….but he didn't. Instead, he let his handheld device self-destruct.

The next thing he saw was Casey looming over him.

Then there was darkness.

The anger he felt was now directed towards Sarah. How the hell could she do that to poor Chuck? Seducing and recruiting Chuck into the CIA would've been mere child's play for her!

Bryce's hand lightly touched the place where John Casey's bullet had entered his chest. The gods had been smiling on Bryce Larkin that particular evening.

Casey was an expert shot, but Bryce was moving. He had been dressed in black and it was dark. The single shot hit Bryce in the left pectoral area, two inches inside his nipple and not centre mass.

Luckily for Bryce, Casey was using full metal jacketed bullets. The pathway of the bullet narrowly missed the lower chambers of his heart. The bullet barely nicked one of his ribs, punched through his left lung and collapsed it. The bullet missed his spine when it exited his body.

Casey needed Bryce for questioning, so he reluctantly used his knowledge of battlefield medicine to block the sucking chest wound and keep him alive until the medics arrived.

During the ride in the ambulance, Fulcrum had kidnapped him and completed his rehab. The rest, as they say, was history.

The wound was now completely healed and he'd been certified by the CIA physicians as fit to go back into the field. The damage to his lung had left him with only ninety-five percent of his normal capacity. Graham had deemed Bryce good to go as he met the minimum physical standards required of a field agent.

Bryce knew he still wasn't one hundred per cent healed. He still felt a phantom pain in his chest. Also, he now knew he was mortal and what it was like to be so close to death.

He needed Sarah Walker as his partner to help him to gain back his confidence and buoy him up.

{o}

Langston Graham had caught the brief flicker of something in Sarah's blue eyes. _Was that anger?_ Good, he'd got a reaction from her, however small and muted. "Very well, I suggest the two of you spend a couple of hours together working on your covers and 'legend'."

He was about to dismiss them both when his phone rang. The arrangement he had with his assistant was that only five people had enough clout to interrupt him when he was in a meeting. So, he knew the call was important. He picked up the phone.

It was the Director of the Secret Service, calling him, he knew the number when it flashed up on his console. "Hello, Meredith, how are you?" He then listened to Meredith's special request, which had been approved by the President.

Bryce and Sarah knew from Graham's body language that he wasn't happy with what was transpiring on the phone call.

"Meredith, this is a most unusual request, I'm not sure if she's the best person to help you out… in fact, she's being tasked for a most important assignment…."

Graham then listened some more. "No, she is technically free for the next two weeks. Yes….I'm aware of her background with the Secret Service…."

Graham was clearly pissed off with the caller and the request, but his voice and his tone didn't convey how upset he was. "Meredith, I'll send her over tomorrow and you can have her until…..uhmm.. January 9th, then I absolutely must have her back here at the CIA….Okay…fine….yes…. happy to help."

He mashed down the phone into its cradle, his only outward act of frustration. He looked up at Sarah. His dark brown eyes reflected his anger. "Agent Walker, as of tomorrow you will be on detached duty to the Secret Service. They wish to run new training scenarios dealing with highly trained assassins trying to get to POTUS.

"Apparently, your reputation has preceded you. You will, however, be back here and ready for your new mission on January 9th…..understood."

Sarah nodded and her head was swimming with questions, ' _What the hell had just happened here?' Was this a possible way out of working with Bryce?_ _Was this the work of Dr. Owens' contact?_

{o}

 **Langley VA, CIA Headquarters – Conference Room-FC6045**

It had taken Bryce and Sarah ten minutes to walk to this secure meeting place. Bryce had managed to get five terse words out, "Let's go somewhere secure, now!"

When they'd swept the room and were satisfied. Bryce started in. "What the hell are you doing recruiting Chuck Bartowski into this life. He's not like us….I….you…you…. have no idea what you've done."

Sarah was stunned by Bryce's declaration, and the anger behind it. "Listen Bryce, he was already working for the NSA when I met him…..so get down from your high horse!" Bryce sat down wearily.

Sarah told Bryce about Chuck's background since leaving Stanford.

Bryce shook his head. "Listen, it doesn't make sense that Chuck got caught hacking. He's very careful. At Stanford the two of us broke into a number of sites and he left almost no trace." Sarah volunteered that her research indicated Chuck took the fall for his friend Morgan.

Bryce smiled for the first time. "Chuck was always loyal to a fault…yeah, that makes sense."

Sarah went on to tell Bryce about how Chuck had saved Carina's life, leaving out the bits about what she'd done to him in the interrogation room.

After Sarah was finished telling Bryce about Chuck, they both lapsed into silence, each lost in their own thoughts and memories about Chuck.

Bryce caught Sarah's eye. "So, what gives with the Director of the Secret Service asking for you?" Sarah's father had given his daughter a sad gift, she could lie smoothly and convincingly. "I have no idea….I mean, I did spend almost a year there learning about close protection work….I must've made an impression?"

Bryce had worked with Sarah for almost a year. He believed he knew her better than any other man on the planet. He thought he noticed something different about Sarah. He couldn't quite put his finger on it ….so he went fishing. "So, what do you think about Chuck?"

Sarah knew Bryce Larkin well and she knew this man never asked innocent questions. There was always a purpose, or the question was a set up for the next question and then the next question. And so the two of them started to play this mental chess game with each other.

"According to Doug Cousins, he's a first rate hacker and computer guy. According to Tom Corrigan, he'll make an excellent analyst." Sarah's voice was neutral, she was utterly composed.

Bryce gave her a half smile. "So, what are Agent Walker's thoughts about Mr. Bartowski?"

Sarah cocked her head, as if she was thinking about the subject for the first time. "Well, he'll never be a field agent, he wears his heart on his sleeve. His conscience is too highly developed for our work. He'd never pass the Red test. He's nervous around good looking women, he often gets tongue tied. He lacks sophistication, he only speaks English, and he's never been outside of the States."

Sarah looked at Bryce as if she was getting bored talking about Chuck. "I think he often refers to himself as a nerd. He's a boy trapped in a man's body. I guess it takes all kinds to make an intelligence agency tick."

Sarah waved her hand, as if to say, 'enough about him'. "Graham wants us to start working on our legends as Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. Let's head down to the documents department and refresh our passports, drivers' licenses and University transcripts. Apparently, you went to Dartmouth, Mr. Anderson."

They walked side by side down the long hall towards the elevator that would take them down to the documents room.

Sarah realized that she'd just given an Oscar worthy performance. All the things she said about Chuck were true, except her last statement. He wasn't a boy trapped in a man's body. He was a truly gentle and empathetic man. His enthusiasm for knowledge, games, music, books and life filled her with joy.

She wanted to grab Bryce by the ears and shout at him. "Chuck Bartowski is the man I've been looking for my whole life. He's my doorway, he's my ticket into a new life and guess what? I love him like crazy."

Bryce heard everything Sarah had said in the conference room and she was spot on. Chuck was all that she'd said. Why was it then that he kept circling back to the idea that Sarah might actually like Chuck? She'd given no outward sign, in fact she'd seemed a little bored with the conversation.

He needed to keep digging. He needed to talk with Chuck.

 **{o}**

 **Burbank- December 19** **th** **, 2007- DEA Field Office-10am**

Carina Miller's ears were still ringing with the praise and kudos from the Director of the DEA, Hortense Williams. Arresting a traitor as highly placed as Amy Monroe, a top CIA field agent; and capturing Augusto Gaez, all in the same day, had caused medium size ripples in the intelligence community pond.

It had been a joint operation of the three agencies, so there was a lot of self-congratulations and backslapping going around. As usual, a successful operation had many 'mothers' claiming it was their 'child'.

Casey and Chuck would have letters of commendation placed in their files, and so would Carina and Zondra.

The Director of the DEA told Carina that, "Chuck Bartowski gets results".

Hortense went on to say that he was like a lucky talisman, success and good fortune seemed to follow him. "Agent Miller, from now on you will be the prime contact with Mr. Bartowski when he's working with us.

"Bring Bartowski up to speed quickly." Hortense was plain spoken and blunt. "Make sure his experience with the DEA is a positive one, understood."

Casey had been on a G5 leaving LAX five hours after Amy's arrest with his two special DARPA prototypes.

Zondra had received a phone call from Langston Graham himself congratulating her. Her reward was an assignment overseas. The first one since the transmitter had been found in her boot. She'd finally been vindicated. Zondra left that same night on a red-eye to Washington.

Carina and Chuck were heading out for dinner tonight, to celebrate. Chuck didn't know that yet. He also didn't know that Carina was going to take him to a tailor she knew to get him fitted out for a decent suit. She would enjoy sprucing up his appearance.

Once they were out and settled in for dinner, she was going to pump him for information about what was going on between him and Sarah.

Zondra had shared with Carina her belief that there was something going on between the two of them.

Carina thought Zondra's mind had become addled by some brain eating worm. She was crazy. _I mean come on, Chuck and Sarah Walker…..together, no way._ Carina had seen the type of men Sarah had hooked up with when they were on the CAT squad.

Sarah Walker was the very archetype of what a spy was, just like her. Their work was their life and a real boyfriend, a real relationship and all that might entail, was a massive and unnecessary distraction. Carina believed that Sarah could easily become a Deputy Director or a Station Chief. Why would she ever give that all up? For Chuck?

Love them and leave them, scratch the itch along the way, and focus on the goal. Carina wanted to have fun tonight. Hell, maybe she might finally get Chuckles into her bed. _Better not call him that._

{o}

Carina went looking for Chuck and found him in the control center talking with one of the computer guys, Brian. They were laughing and talking about a movie called Hancock with Will Smith and Charlize Theron.

She was used to being noticed by men, so when Chuck and Brian kept talking and laughing she cleared her throat to get Chuck's attention.

"Hi Brian, I'm going to have to steal Chuck from you." Chuck gave her a surprised look. "What's up?"

When they couldn't be overheard, Carina told Chuck that the Director was very pleased with his work and had suggested they go out and have a celebration dinner. Chuck smiled. "Where we going? I know a great Mexican restaurant in Echo Park. We can dress casual."

Carina shook her head. "Chuck, I don't do casual, and since the DEA is paying we're going somewhere where your converses are not welcome."

"Where?"

"Benu's restaurant."

"I've never heard of it."

"Chuck, it's in San Francisco and you're going to need a suit and a tie?"

"What?"

Chuck stopped Carina with his hand on her shoulder. The look of surprise on his face was priceless. "Chuck, relax, we can hitch a ride on a regular DEA flight that goes back and forth three times a day. We need to go shopping for you."

"No, we don't. I have a suit."

"Chuck, I've seen your one dingy suit, if I'm dressing up to go out, I want you to look the part as my date."

"Carina, if this is not another attempt to …..you know…."

Carina gave him an innocent smile. "Chuck, I'm just following orders to take you out and celebrate. My God, you are so distrustful. Have you always been like this?"

Chuck was about to complain to Carina that he couldn't afford to buy an expensive suit. But that was no longer true, he was now making six figures. He needed to talk with Sarah before he went out on this 'celebration' dinner.

Sarah would tell him what to watch out for and how to survive the night. God, what had his life become?

 **A/N2-** Three more chapters to go, maybe an epilogue.

 **A/N3** \- Thank you Doc in Oz for help about a possible pathway for the bullet that hit Bryce ...and didn't kill him. A Hollywood miracle.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N**. If I could add a soundtrack to this story, kettle drums and violins might be heard. A word about reviews and PMs. I really appreciate them, as do most writers, so a sincere thank you to all who leave them. Thanks to michaelfmx for editing all the chapters and his valued input. Any errors are mine.

 _"_ _I stand in Minas Anor, the Tower of the Sun; and behold! the Shadow has departed! I will be a Shieldmaiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying. I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren."  
_ ― **J.R.R. Tolkien** , **The Return of the King**

 **Chapter 15**

 **Burbank- December 20th, 2007- DEA Field Office-11:55 am**

 _Hi, good morning. My name is Chuck and here are some things you may not know._

 _Carina gets things done. When she told me that I needed a new suit for our special dinner that evening, I laughed. I mean_ , _who gets a fitted suit the same day? Carina does._

 _Carina knew this tailor and …now I have a new slim fit navy suit with a matching silk tie._

 _I've never in my whole life paid that much for a suit. In fact_ , _I think the suit is worth as much as the rest of my entire wardrobe._

 _She also wanted to take me to her favorite hair stylist to get my hair cut._

 _Sarah warned me that Carina likes the 'Bondesque' look in her men and that under no circumstances, and she emphasized none, should I get my hair cut. She then made this odd reference to the Old Testament and said that if I got my hair cut_ , _my 'potency and vigour' would be diminished. I'll have to check that story out, I certainly need all my vigour with Sarah Walker._

 _I met Carina at the private lounge area at LAX. She wore a simple blue dress that cut off four inches above the knees and covered her arms and shoulders. I was going to say the dress was understated, boy was I wrong, the dress accented every curve in her curvy body. When she walked to the plane with me_ , _every person in the lounge was gawking at her._

 _I'd had a long talk with Sarah about Carina and their friendship. Sarah gave me some tips on how to derail any attempts that Carina might make in the 'let's get Chuck into my bed' department._

 _The evening was great and the DEA paid for an amazing dinner at a Michelin three star restaurant, in San Francisco. Fortunately for me_ , _I'd already given my heart away before I got there, so I wasn't going to lose it here on Nob Hill to Carina._

 _Benu's portions are tiny, Big Mike would've asked for his money back and then gone out and ordered a meatball Sub to fill the void. I actually enjoyed the whole experience, heightened_ , _I might add_ , _because I wasn't paying for it._

 _Carina was relaxed after the main course and_ , _she was sipping a glass of Armagnac_. _She slipped off her right shoe and her foot found my leg under the table. I blushed._

 _I looked into those dazzling blue eyes. I reached across the table with my right hand and found hers. And with every ounce of sincerity I could muster_ , _I said, "Carina, I …..I …think I'm falling in love with you." The effect was immediate, like a jolt of electricity hit her body, her eyes widened, her foot disappeared to her side of the table and she withdrew her hand from my grasp._

 _She sat back in her chair. "What?"_

 _I smiled to myself and pressed on. "Before we go any further_ , _we should talk about a really important subject. I know we'll be very happy together_. " I gave her my goofiest smile. "… _but I hope you want kids, I would like three or four of them…"_

 _Carina was clearly agitated. "Chuck, what the hell are you talking about? I'm not…. I.."_

 _For the first time I had Carina on the run. "Listen, Carina. Once my contract is up, we can both leave this spy-undercover life behind. We could start up a business together…God, I don't know…. maybe start up a cyber security business…."_

 _Carina was lost for words, still reeling from my confession. I pressed on._

 _"_ _And we could move to a small town and raise our family. Do you have a favorite place you'd like to go to?"_

 _Carina grabbed her Armagnac and finished it in one big gulp. "Chuck, listen…don't get me wrong. You're okay…. but you're talking….well it's crazy talk….I love what I'm doing….I have plans ….and…"_

 _I manufactured this confused look. "But Carina, I mean the dinner, the flirting….you must be really into me…right?" Sarah had told me that Carina and a committed relationship with someone were like oil and water, they didn't mix._

 _"_ _Listen, Chuck…you're a nice guy. I like you but…I'm definitely not…..I don't….. listen…. I have plans for the future…"_

 _I couldn't help myself, I started to laugh. The surprised look on Carina's face was priceless. She caught on quickly that I'd been winding her up._

 _"_ _Chuck, you bastard, Sarah….damn it ….it was Sarah …who put you up to this. Alright, out with it…. you and Sarah are…are what?"_

 _"_ _Carina, I want to be your friend_ , _but you might as well know that my heart_ , _and other significant body parts_ , _all belong to Sarah Walker. Let me remind you she's you're best friend. So, for God's sake_ , _please tone down the flirting and let's order our dessert and coffee, maybe we can work on our friendship."_

 _I'm happy to report that Carina Miller_ , _when she's not trying to seduce you_ , _is an interesting, intelligent and engaging person. We had a great evening._

 _Oh, one more item of news for you. Sarah just called me ten minutes ago and told me that she is now on detached duty with the Secret Service. She'll be able to spend Christmas with Ellie, Devon and me in Burbank._

 _Question; what do you get a beautiful, sophisticated woman who also happens to be a government assassin as a Christmas gift?_

 _Now you are all caught up._

{o}

 **Same Day**

 **950 H St NW #7800, Washington, DC 20223, USA**

 **Saturday, December 20** **th** **, 2007- 5:30pm**

 **Headquarters Secret Service**

Sarah looked around her bare bones office.

There was a single picture of the new President on the wall across from her desk. One stapler, a pencil, a pad of lined paper, ten paperclips and a desktop computer constituted all of her office equipment. Her re-orientation to the Secret Service had lasted exactly one hour and they'd issued her a secret service ID, then the HR person rushed home to enjoy the weekend.

Sarah got up from the desk and stretched. She walked over to the window and looked out on H St. She was around the corner from the National Portrait Gallery and a few blocks from the National Mall.

She'd spent her lunch hour walking around the Mall, even though the temperature was only 39F and there was a biting wind coming in from the Northwest. She needed to clear her head to think about what would happen next.

As things stood at the moment, she would have to return to the CIA and once again become Bryce's partner on January 9th. She'd resign or go rogue before she'd let that happen, she was done being Graham's enforcer.

Sarah had met with Meredith, the Director of The Secret Service, for all of ten minutes and received a perfunctory greeting. The Director then excused herself and went home for the weekend. Meredith, before she left, had handed Sarah off to a senior agent, Bradley Langlois. She'd worked with Bradley four years ago when she'd been first assigned to the Secret Service.

He spent one hour with her, outlined the assignment and then he also left to be with his family over the weekend.

The assignment was pretty straight forward. She was to review possible scenarios where a foreign government might send an assassin to take out the President or someone else in the line of succession. She was to work with Bradley and prepare a report about possible threats and counter measures that would stymie any assassination attempt.

Sarah strongly believed that the assignment was 'makee workee', while she was here and out of Graham's clutches.

Meredith had told her she would not be assigned to any protection details or similar duty.

The good news, for Sarah, was that the President and First Lady would be spending Christmas at the White House.

The First Family had done this so that as many of the members of his and her protective detail could be home with their families over the holidays. Sarah's services would not be needed over the holidays.

She hated the holidays because in the past there were only two holiday realities for her; she was on a mission about to kill someone or she was between assignments and sitting alone in her apartment.

When you're alone during the holidays, time weighs exceedingly heavily. Depression is often just around the corner.

Sarah had quickly called Chuck to see if she could spend Christmas with him and Ellie and Devon. Chuck's reaction was instantaneous, she could feel him smiling on the other end of the line. He was happy and asked her if she'd used up all of her special negligees. Sarah assured him that there were more where they'd come from.

Bryce had called her twice yesterday and asked her what she was doing for Christmas. "Bryce, I'll be out of town for Christmas and New Year's. I'll see you on January 9th, as planned." He sounded disappointed and Sarah wondered if the sad tone in his voice was real or put on to make her feel guilty.

Sarah kept herself busy all day and hadn't been able to call Dr. Owens to see if she'd indeed had a hand in her being transferred here.

There was a knock on the door that startled Sarah. The building should be virtually empty on a Saturday evening. Who the hell was there? Sarah readied a knife and kept it below the desk….just in case.

As the door opened, Mac Showers appeared from behind it. He was a tall, patrician looking older gentleman, in a gray suit. He was tall and lean and he wore his sixty-seven years rather well.

"Agent Walker, I thought I'd introduce myself. I'm Mac Showers."

Sarah had seen pictures of this man and knew a tiny bit of his history.

Mac Showers was the former head of the CIA before Langston Graham. He had served in various senior positions with five different President's over the last thirty five years. He was officially retired and, as far as Sarah or anyone else in the public knew, he lived quietly in Williamsburg, VA with his wife Charlotte.

He was the Governor for William and Mary College and an alumni of Yale.

What many people, including Sarah, didn't know was that Mac Showers was a one man 'think tank'. People in power still listened to and talked with Mac, privately. His discretion was legendary, and he knew more about the inner workings of Washington than almost anybody else, apart from the long departed, J. Edgar Hoover. Mac detested Hoover and how he'd misused the power that the people had entrusted him with.

Sarah hid the knife and stood up to shake his outstretched hand. "Mr. Showers, I've obviously heard of you. It's a pleasure to actually meet you."

Mac indicated with his hand for Sarah to please sit back down. He sat down in a chair across the desk from Sarah.

He fixed his gray-blue eyes on Sarah. "I understand that you no longer wish to do…..certain work for the CIA."

Sarah's eyes betrayed her surprise. So, Dr. Owens had reached out to this man who had no real position of power in Washington. "Sir, I…..I'm not sure….what…"

Mac gave a soft laugh. "Relax Agent Walker. Please be assured that what we talk about stays in this room. And yes, someone who you know has reached out to me. Let's leave it at that, shall we?"

Sarah cleared her throat. "In that case, thank you, and I'll thank the person who reached out to you."

She hesitated then launched forth, "Don't think me ungrateful, but I fear this is only a temporary respite for me."

Mac smiled at her. "Yes, this arrangement here is only temporary. One must be very careful when dealing with Langston, but I'm still working on your problem. Three weeks gives you a breathing space and gives me valuable time to…..let's say …to find other solutions."

Mac then asked her a question completely out of left field. "I understand you speak Russian, tell me your thoughts on the current regime". He listened carefully and asked her thoughtful questions to see how her mind worked.

Sarah knew she was being weighed and evaluated as they talked. Nonetheless, she welcomed the chance to talk about geo politics and world affairs. Sarah talked about Afghanistan, the loss of 533,000 jobs in the US, the financial crisis that minute by minute was gripping the world's economies and Putin's aggressive moves in Eastern Europe.

She quietly reflected on how different the two men were. Graham never asked her opinions about world affairs, Russia or anything else. He only talked to her about mission parameters. She was a sharp instrument for him to use.

Mac smiled at Sarah and thanked her for a stimulating discussion. He eased his six foot two inch frame out of the wooden chair and wished her a good weekend. His last words as he closed door were, "I'll be in touch."

 **{o}**

 **Same Day**

 **Los Angeles- December 20** **th** **, 2007- DEA Field Office-3:30pm**

One of the very few benefits when Chuck had worked for the NSA, the first time around, had been that he didn't have to work on Saturdays.

Carina Miller worked like a Trojan between undercover assignments. Chuck wondered just how much of a social life Carina really had. It seemed to him that she was either undercover or on assignment and worked like a dog when she was in the office.

Today's topic of study for Carina and her less than willing assistant, Chuck, was an old acquaintance to both of them.

Emilio Fuertes was now the head of the Jaconde crime family. The former head of the family, Carlos, had died suddenly, and there was some suspicion his sudden illness and demise might've been aided by some poison.

Laying aside the speculation and rumors, the fact was that Emilio was back on the DEA and NSA's radar.

The NSA had recently picked up encrypted traffic to one of Emilio's favorite couriers. A woman named Giselle, who lived in the shadows and only recently had been identified. However, figuring out who she was had been a cinch compared to trying to figure out where she was. That was proving to be the real challenge.

The NSA's computers were faithfully laboring away trying to decrypt the two messages that had been sent to her.

The key piece of intelligence for now, and the reason Chuck had been called in on a Saturday (the last freaking weekend before Christmas) , was that the NSA was almost positive that the original sender was associated with the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps Protection Organization. (IRGCPO)

The IRGCPO had very close connections with Hezbollah and tentacles reaching out to all the western countries.

Carina and Chuck had spent the entire day reviewing every piece of intelligence the DEA, CIA, FBI and the NSA had collected on Emilio and the Jaconde family for the last twelve months.

Carina's 'modus operandi' was to ask endless questions; for many of those questions there weren't any answers, yet. So she would write them down on a big computerized white board.

Chuck had shared with Carina his concern about this newest connection between one of the cartels and the IRGCPO. He'd talked for five minutes about his concerns. Carina listened carefully and then wrote down five more questions that once again had no answers.

At the top of her list of questions was, why was the IRGCPO contacting a cartel courier? And why now?

{o}

 **Same Day**

 **Echo Park– Saturday, December 20, 2007 – 5:30pm**

The sun had set at four forty-seven. This close to the winter solstice LA was already into a long dark night. Chuck felt like it was a lot later than five-thirty.

Ellie and Devon would be back home around seven and then they'd all go out and eat. The courtyard was nicely lit up for Christmas. He smiled with the thought that Sarah would soon be here. Chuck wanted to shower quickly and then call Sarah on his encrypted SAT phone.

As he passed the fountain, a voice came from behind the falling water. A voice he recognized instantly. Bryce Larkin slid out from the shadows. He gave Chuck the charming smile he was famous for. "Hi Chuck, how are you?"

Chuck stopped dead in his tracks, several different thoughts popped into his mind all at the same time. _Why is he here? Why now? What does he want?_ _It sure isn't to renew our friendship, so what?_

"Bryce?"

"Listen Chuck, we need to talk, I'm worried about you."

Chuck bit back on several choice responses, which he didn't deliver. _Your concern is touching, how is Jill by the way? Bryce why don't you f…..! Bryce what the hell do you want from me now?_

Instead, Chuck backed up a step and sat down on the edge of the fountain. Bryce followed him and also sat down. They were separated by a couple of feet. Bryce looked just about the same to Chuck.

"So how's Carina Chuck? God, she's quite the lady…isn't she?"

Chuck wasn't going to play Bryce's game, he kept his mouth shut and waited for him to fill the silence. Bryce waited for several seconds and smiled at Chuck again.

"Listen Chuck, Sarah's told me what happened to you after Stanford. How the NSA coerced you into working for them. "

Chuck's patience and his restraint left him. "I'm touched you care about what happened to me after Stanford. But I'm still trying to figure what the hell happened AT Stanford…care to share about how you screwed me over?"

Bryce's eye's did show regret. Chuck just didn't know whether to believe what he was seeing or not. "Listen Chuck …..about Stanford…". Bryce in a softer voice explained to Chuck why he'd framed him and gotten him expelled from Fleming's class and Stanford. Bryce told him that Fleming was a recruiter for the CIA.

"Chuck, I think I handled it badly, I'm sorry. But I was trying to do the right thing. I was trying to keep you out of the clutches of the CIA. They would've changed you, and not for the better."

Chuck's first thought was, _yeahBryce, I think you could've handled it better, maybe even warn me_. "So, has the CIA changed you Bryce…. I mean for the better. Or is it for the worse?"

Bryce stopped smiling and looked down and then refocused his gaze on Chuck. "Chuck, I'm different from you, I love the spy life, the travel, the danger and the feel of adrenaline pumping through me."

Chuck's tone had hardened. "So, how do you sleep at night Bryce, any nightmares, any regrets?"

Bryce always had a ready answer. "Chuck, I'm serving my country. I'm keeping you, Ellie and plenty of other people in this country safe. Sometimes there's a cost to doing your duty. I'm willing to pay that cost. How about you…are you willing to do the right thing? Are you willing to do the right thing for Sarah?"

"Bryce, why are you really here…. because in five years not once have you reached out to me. So, I know you're not here for a kiss and make up moment between the two of us."

Bryce grew more serious. "Chuck, I think you're involved with Sarah Walker." He waited for a response. Chuck had learned not to run off at the mouth, once again he waited. _Come on Bryce, play your next card._

Bryce ran his right hand through his hair. "Fair enough, play the Sphinx, but I know I'm right about you and Sarah…so let me tell you something about the beautiful Sarah Walker."

Bryce had carefully prepared the seeds he wanted to plant with Chuck. Seeds of self-doubt about himself, and doubts about any possible future relationship with Sarah.

"Chuck, Sarah and I were once an elite spy couple. We were also lovers."

Bryce let that last bit sink in. "In three weeks, the Director of the CIA, Langston Graham, has ordered that we resume our role as partners once again. That is written in stone. Sarah will be gone from your life for a long, long time."

Chuck felt his stomach flip. He knew what was supposed to happen, he and Sarah had talked about it. The fear of what might happen if Sarah disappeared with Bryce for seven or eight months still hit him hard. He held onto the thought that Sarah was working hard to avoid becoming Bryce's partner again. But the fear clung to him.

"Bryce, why are you telling me this? Isn't that information supposed to be classified?

Bryce nodded. "Chuck, I still consider you my friend, I'm willing to bend some of the rules….I really -don't want to see you get hurt." Chuck snarled his response. "Don't you mean, you don't want to see me get hurt…..again! I believe that is the correct way to phrase it."

Bryce brushed aside Chuck's dig and planted another seed. "I know you…. you've always wanted the American dream. Two or three kids, a dog, a little bungalow with a white picket fence. A lovely wife to be your partner in a picturesque community."

Chuck clenched his jaw. God he'd love to punch Bryce right in the face. Instead he waited.

"Chuck, Sarah might, in a moment of weakness, agree to be with you….even…to marry you.

"But come on, how long before life as a normal person would start boring her. She's a rare Arabian Mare….not some Clydesdale hooked to a plough or a station wagon. God Chuck …don't you know that her life with you …..it…it would eventually crush her spirit."

Chuck felt that particular verbal arrow hit home….hard. He'd worried about whether he was enough of a man for Sarah. He was only human, his mind from time to time had drifted down those unhelpful paths of thinking.

He wondered, if Sarah Walker might wake up one day and find good old Chuck Bartowski, with his converses, just a tad unsophisticated, a little plebeian and, God help him, just plain boring.

Chuck's tone wasn't as confidant as he would've liked. He pulled out his iPhone and checked the time.

"Bryce, it's been a real treat to see you again, but I think we're running out of time for this conversation…do you have an executive summary of maybe ten seconds. I really don't want to hold you up any longer from .…your important spy shit."

Bryce had little experience with a sarcastic Chuck. That was new. He still felt, however, that he had been successful in getting Chuck to start doubting himself and any future relationship with Sarah.

"Listen Chuck, even though you still don't like me…like I said…I am your friend, trust me. If I thought for a single moment that you and Sarah could actually make a relationship work …well, I'd shut up and never darken your door again."

Bryce paused, he'd saved the pièce de résistance for this moment. "Listen Chuck, Sarah is not the girl next door. She is a dangerous woman. You have no idea. We were together for almost a year. I know what she's capable of. I'm not lying…ask her about….about one of her assassination missions."

Chuck stood up abruptly and put his hand up. "Bryce, I don't want to hear your stories….I'm done and so are you." Chuck stared at him for a moment before walking quickly over to the door and unlocking it.

Bryce raced behind him to catch up.

"Chuck, Sarah coldly executed another CIA Agent, a friend and mentor. She was an instructor from the Farm. Sarah shot her husband first, while he was sitting in his easy chair. Then she crept upstairs and killed her friend Gayle, while she was sound asleep in her bed."

Chuck slammed the door in Bryce's face.

He leaned his tall body back against the door and let out a huge sigh. Slowly, as his breathing calmed down, a smile formed on his face. _Well Bryce_ , _looks like I know something you don't. Sarah didn't kill Gayle Ardis and her husband. They're still alive, you asshole_!

{o}

 **Same Day**

 **Next Day, Saturday December 20** **th** **, 8:30pm**

 **Langley VA, CIA Headquarters – Director Graham's Office**

Langston Graham put down the file and sat back in his chair. The final pieces were now in place to activate what he was calling the Beta Intersect. Bryce had destroyed the first Intersect, in order to keep it out of the hands of Fulcrum. Unfortunate but necessary.

It had taken six months of hard work and another sixty million dollars to get the Beta ready.

Graham's days of subterfuge, the moving of funds from hidden accounts and taking money from other areas of the CIA budget were almost at an end. Once his six new 'Intersect' agents were in the field and generating solid results he would go before the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence.

He would go before them contrite and humbly ask for forgiveness. While holding his letter of resignation in one hand, he would come bearing news of remarkable intelligence coups. Coups that would give the US a clear superiority in the decade to come.

To top all of that, he would talk about the soon to be demise of Fulcrum.

He fully expected the Senate Committee to reject his letter of resignation.

Somewhere over the last ten years, Langston Graham had entered into a bargain. Not all at once, it had been a long and slow negotiation. But for all intents and purposes his Faustian contract was now signed and sealed.

He had slowly traded off pieces of his soul for power. He would never admit to that, each step of the way he had been able to justify his actions because it was for the 'greater good'.

He unknowingly had entered into what some call the 'magician's bargain': give up your soul, get power in return. Graham, like so many others, missed the sleight of hand. Once you've lost your soul, you're no longer you. You don't really have the power. No, the power now owns you and you become its slave, to do its bidding.

He got up to go home. Satisfied that all the sacrifices had been worth it.

He told himself he wasn't a bad person, he was just a man who wasn't afraid to make the hard decisions. Graham loved the image of himself, standing watch on the city wall, watching over the city, keeping an eye on the dangers outside the city. He was the one who kept the Goths, the Huns and the barbarians outside. It was because of him that people could sleep safely in their beds at night.

In time, his estranged family, his colleagues and his few remaining friends would come to understand and appreciate him for what he'd sacrificed and for what he'd done for the country and for them.

{o}

 **Same time -Different Place**

 **RAF Menwith Hill, North Yorkshire, UK **

Each day more than ten trillion voice mails, emails and text messages are transacted across planet Earth. Many are sent through the ether.

RAF Menwith Hill is situated in northern Yorkshire. The moorlands of legend and nineteenth century literature are nearby. It is located only twenty-six miles from the fictional home of Emily Bronte's 'Wuthering Heights' and its owner,Heathcliff.

Appearances, as ever can be deceiving, RAF Menwith is actually run by the US Air Force, with support from over four hundred GCHQ staff.

When you gaze down upon Menwith Hill, you'll see a dozen giant golf ball shapes sitting inside the enclosed fence. The 'giant golf balls' are actually huge radomes enclosing the largest single electronic monitoring system in the entire world.

The radars, the taps into fibre optic cables, (and thus the Internet) and the satellite links; they all greedily grasp at tasty morsels of electronic data. RAF Menwith's hunger for data never wains, it never falters, no, not for a single second. Once they have the data, they store it.

Then the process to sift through the data begins, to decrypt it and finally to analyse it. Long before the public started to talk about 'Big Data' the NSA and GCHQ had designed systems to deal with formerly unimaginable amounts of data.

Tonight, part of the system was set up to be an electronic bloodhound. The 'bloodhound' had been programmed to look for transactions from one particular place.

At 0130 hours GMT the 'bloodhound' picked up the scent. A bank transfer from the Perfeissen Bank in Sofia, Bulgaria, had been initiated.

The sum of money was inconsequential, only eight thousand Euros. The bank in Sofia was not required to report such a transaction to any authorities because it was under the legal limit. However, a week ago the Perfeissen Bank in Sofia was designated by GCHQ as a bank that might be funneling Iranian Revolutionary Guard money to hundreds of destinations.

The transfer of eight thousand Euros ended up in a small private bank; the California Home Street Credit Union, located in San Diego.

Chuck, Sarah, Casey and Carina's lives were all going to change because of this one single transaction.

{o}

 **A/N-2** Once again truth is stranger than fiction. RAF Menwith Hill is real and it is part of the Echelon system. A quote about the Echelon system, from the Guardian newspaper is below;

 _A global network of electronic spy stations that can eavesdrop on telephones, faxes and computers. It can even track bank accounts. This information is stored in Echelon computers, which can keep millions of records on individuals. Officially, however, Echelon doesn't exist._

 **A/N-3** I'm hoping I can wrap this story up in two more chapters and of course an epilogue. Thanks for reading and your continued interest in a story that was supposed to only be twelve chapters and finished by the end of March. I don't want to rush the story to a hasty end.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N** –Welcome back. This chapter will have a number of quick... scene/place changes as I pull together a number of story threads. The pace picks up as we move to the final few chapters and the epilogue. A large thank you to….. you the readers. Your continued interest, reviews and PMs are greatly appreciated. Thank you michaelfmx for editing and your valued input. I don't own Chuck. If you own Chuck ...well, congratulations and enjoy the residuals.

 ** _"_** ** _I would rather spend one lifetime with you than face all the Ages of this world alone."_**

 **-J.R.R. Tolkien, Lord of the Rings**

 **Chapter 16**

 **Burbank-December 24, 2007**

 **Maison23-room 805, 11:57pm**

Bryce Larkin sat on the edge of his bed and replayed the surveillance data feed from Echo Park. He'd planted a micro camera at Echo Park that covered the fountain and Chuck's front door.

Two hours ago, Sarah Walker had entered the courtyard and rushed across it to knock on the door.

The reception she got from Chuck and her reaction to him was a kiss, which was so passionate that, by rights, it should have set the door and the wooden frame on fire.

Bryce now had zero doubts that Sarah Walker and Chuck Bartowski were truly together,….. for now.

He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands and gave his head a shake. This was a major setback for him, and it meant he would have to work much, much harder at winning back Sarah Walker's affections.

However, time was his ally, not Chuck's.

In less than three weeks, he and Sarah would once again be partners, by the dictum of Langston Graham. A combination of time and separation from Chuck would weaken whatever bond they'd managed to forge with each other.

Moving forward, Bryce would focus all his considerable charm and energy on showing Sarah how important she was to him. He'd learnt from the past mistakes he'd made with Sarah Walker. He'd slowly and regrettably come to realize that he'd taken her for granted. Just another beautiful woman he'd bedded.

He stood up and walked to the balcony and looked in the general direction of Echo Park. "Okay, Chuck. Round one goes to you. But now, I'm taking the gloves off, we're going bare knuckle from here on end."

Bryce was booked to fly out from LAX at 5:45am to Hartford, Connecticut. He always tried to spend Christmas Day with his parents. He'd get home around 2:30pm, just in time for the present opening and then dinner.

 **{o}**

 **Echo Park– Sunday, December 25, 2007 12:20am**

Sarah heard Chuck gasp her name one last time. The special moment that the Chinese and Japanese call the 'clouds and the rain' passed. Time was often difficult to gauge in those intimate moments but Sarah felt elated and spent.

Chuck gently shifted his body and lay down beside her. They were done…for now.

Her heart was hammering and her breathing was rapid. She put her warm hand on his bare chest and felt his heart thudding. She smiled to herself as she remembered the kiss when she'd shown up at the front door two hours ago.

My good Lord that kiss from Chuck had lit a fuse within her. It had kept burning and it had led to this special moment.

If Ellie and Devon hadn't been home when she'd first arrived and they'd been alone in the apartment…..but, they had been home….so they all chatted and talked about Ellie's plans for tomorrow.

Sarah had reminded herself that pleasure deferred often doubled the reward. Tonight her anticipation was high and had only been ratcheted upwards when he grabbed her and gave her the welcome home kiss.

Chuck rolled onto his side so he could gaze at her.

She didn't look at him but felt his eyes on her. "Chuuck …you're staring at me again." He gave her a throaty deep laugh. "I'm staring at you and that amazing negligee. I'm thinking the woman makes the negligee….but what do I know..….I mean…."

Sarah stopped him in his tracks and gave him a smile and a quick kiss.

She'd purchased a lovely jade green short lace number. It had kimono style sleeves, with a satin sash. Chuck had been mesmerized by her and the negligee when she'd come into the bedroom.

He'd undone the sash sooo slowly…..well…. she certainly would be wearing this little number again.

She cuddled in close to him, his feet were always so warm.

Now was not the time to wreck the moment, so she pushed away all the things they needed to discuss. Tomorrow, she planned to enjoy her first Christmas with Chuck and his family. The last Christmas that held fond memories for her was almost twenty years in the past…..those few pleasant memories grew dimmer each year.

She was eager to create new memories with Chuck Bartowski.

Yes, put off the tough stuff, including, talking about that intrusive and manipulative ex-partner of hers.

Boxing Day would be soon enough to come crashing back to Earth and face their problems

 **{0}**

 **December 25, 2007- 12:30am**

 **398 C St.-Encinitas-San Diego**

Carina looked over at the sleeping Esteban Lopez. He was a good looking man.

He'd been a competent, enthusiastic lover. He'd also helped her deal with the inevitable quandary she had about the Christmas holidays. She wanted, she needed, to be distracted. Holidays were to be endured, not enjoyed.

Esteban would be leaving in the morning to spend Christmas Day with his family in Los Angeles.

Esteban and Carina, without exchanging a single word, knew that he wouldn't invite her to join him and his family for Christmas Day. That was okay, she didn't want to join him, her memories of family Christmases weren't pleasant. Too much drinking, too much fighting and too much chaos were her abiding memories with her estranged family.

Esteban was now one of her assets. Carina told herself that he was actually enjoying the experience of being handled by a mysterious and beautiful undercover agent. The word enthralled leapt to mind. Yes, Esteban had fallen under her spell. He wanted to pleaser her.

Carina switched smoothly between sometimes giving him a little honey and at other times some vinegar.

She pressed him hard to deliver on information about Fuertes and his cartel associates. Carina, like other agents, often used threats, and any other leverage they could bring to bear, in order to spur the asset into getting information.

The DEA needed to find out who might be routing cartel funds into and out of the bank Esteban worked at, California Home Street Credit Union.

Today Esteban had delivered, big time, and not just in the lovemaking department.

Carina was very pleased with her new asset.

He'd managed to find out the identity of account holder number 13-74125. The DEA had been asked by the NSA to find out the person who'd received a transfer of 8,000 Euros that happened on December 20th, 2008. The NSA didn't want to get a court order.

A court order would tip off the cartel's contact in the bank…. that someone was looking.

The originating bank for the transfer had been the Perfeissen Bank in Sofia, Bulgaria.

The account holder turned out to be none other than Giselle Nahmins.

Carina smiled to herself, Giselle was the favorite courier for Fuertes. She was also the link between the cartel and the Iranians. Carina had already texted this information to her Director, Hortense. Hortense would pass the information over to General Diane Beckman.

She looked down and smiled at Esteban. She'd let him sleep for another ten minutes or so and then really surprise him. Her gift to him.

Carina felt a little jolt of adrenaline, she sensed an important mission coming down the pike. Perfect, that thought would sustain her through what was shaping up to be a lonely Christmas Day.

She wondered if Sarah Walker was alone…..or was she at this very moment with Chuckles? _I wonder how that's going; will Sarah be able to survive a Bartowski family Christmas?_

 ** _{o}_**

 **December 25, 2007**

 **Fort Mead, MD**

The massive server farm didn't feel or care about the holiday season; one nano second was just the same as the other. At 0421 hours Christmas day, the tireless machines cracked one of the intercepted messages sent to Fuertes' courier Giselle Nahmins.

 ** _'_ _She-goat arrives Jan 5. Deliver to friends Jan 6.'_**

Laurence Wragg had the least seniority in the NSA decrypting department and so he was on call this early Christmas morning.

The message popped up on his screen and he immediately routed it to the head of SIGINT, James Fong. There would be a two hour delay before James got up and read the decrypted intercept and included the message in his daily email brief to Diane Beckman, who would faithfully read it and pass back comments, to all the department heads.

 **{o}**

 **Two Days Later**

 **Echo Park– Tuesday, December 27, 2007 9:00am**

Chuck sat alone at the kitchen table sipping his first coffee of the day. He loved smelling the aroma that wafted up to meet him and then taking a small sip and repeating the process. He was also reflecting on the long discussion they'd had about his meeting with Bryce.

Sarah had coaxed him into telling her every single word Bryce had said, and how Chuck had responded. Fortunately, the conversation was etched on his brain, so remembering was easy and, in some cases, also painful.

Sarah could be hard to read when she chose to put on her agent's mask. Last night, she'd chosen to be his girlfriend. Her emotions, strong emotions, were his to see and to react to. Sarah was furious with Bryce for attempting to undermine her and their relationship.

When Chuck finished talking, Sarah grew quiet. He waited silently because he honestly didn't know what to say.

"Chuck, on a scale of one to ten, how afraid are you….that…down the road I'll grow bored with you and leave?"

Chuck reacted to her question. His feelings were a mixture of fear, _yes I think about you growing bored with me_ and then anger _, why on earth would you raise that question now?_

"Sarah, that's not a fair question….I mean….everyone, from time to time, fears the worst, but that doesn't define them every minute of the day."

Sarah nodded. "Okay, fair point. Let me approach this another way." She reached out for his hand. "Chuck, you have issues about abandonment…I get that. Let me tell you what the correct answer to my first question is…..you know, on a scale of one to ten that I might leave you.."

Chuck waited to hear Sarah's answer to her own question. "Chuck the answer is point zero, zero, zero, zero 1." Chuck calculated that as one chance in a hundred thousand. "Sarah, how the hell did you come up with that answer?"

Sarah smiled. "Chuck, you're a numbers guy and you're my nerd. So, instead of telling you just how much I'm in love with you. How you're my soul mate….I thought you'd appreciate some numbers, a probability. How do you like those odds?"

Chuck smiled. "I like them a lot….but there's still a small chance."

"Chuck, I bet you the odds are greater that I'll drive you crazy and you'll leave me one day."

For the first time, since he'd met Sarah, Chuck saw and believed that this beautiful and desirable woman… a woman who could attract men far more worthy than himself….actually was concerned that Chuck might leave her.

Chuck shook his head. "No, I'd never…." Sarah reached up with her finger and put it on his lips to quiet him. "Listen, neither of us knows what the future holds. Instead of worrying about things we can't control, we need to start making our future a reality." She moved closer and kissed him. She could feel him relax and the room get warmer. Sarah gently broke off the kiss.

"Chuck, we need to figure out what happens if Mac Showers can't get me out of Graham's clutches. January 9th will come all too quickly. We also need to talk about your next rotation back to the NSA. That starts January 3rd, right?"

Sarah gave him a big smile. "Well, we at least you know where you're staying in Washington, this time. I've cleared out two drawers and space in the closet for your stuff. "

 **{o}**

 **CIA 'Skunk Works'- Project Omaha**

 **Unnamed Road-Beside Patuxent River- Twenty-Two Miles NE of Washington DC**

 **Thursday, December 31, 2007 10:00pm**

The room was a brilliant white, from the tiles on the floor, to the walls and finally to the ceiling. Cameras hidden in the walls transmitted pictures to the two neuro scientists and three technicians in the control room.

There were six monitors in the control room, measuring the vitals and the brain waves of Graham's specially selected six Intersect candidates.

Graham stood near the one computer console and disc drive in the broad expanse of white. He was flanked on either side by three agents. Graham was very solemn and wondered, before he inserted the disc, whether he should say something. Some words to mark this moment in history.

He looked to his left and then to his right. All the agents were under thirty and had proved themselves in the field, at the very sharp end of the spy business. The billion neurons in each agent's brain each had a thousand other connections. Those neurons would now receive almost a Petabyte of data.

Precious intelligence data and enhanced skills would now be theirs.

Graham looked at Bryce, who was now his right hand man. He would lead the charge and, along with Sarah Walker, would be designated the Alpha team.

Graham decided, no words were necessary. He didn't need to make a speech, he could see the tremendous anticipation in each of their eyes.

He inserted the disk and pressed enter, the message that popped up chilled his blood. _" **Fulcrum Thanks You."**_

Bryce saw the message and regrets flooded into his mind. In the two seconds he had left to live, he longed for another chance….to do things differently. His very last thought was of Sarah and Chuck.

Langston Graham felt no regrets, in his last seconds of existence, he felt rage building inside him…. his plans would now come to nothing.

The explosion ended Project Omaha and the Intersect.

 **{o}**

 **Thursday, December 31, 2007 11:40pm**

 **Washington DC.- 2660 Connecticut Avenue, NW**

Sarah and Chuck had landed at Ronald Reagan International at five pm.

They quickly found Sarah's car in the parking lot.

She eased her Porsche in and out of Washington traffic, with her usual skill. Chuck was still a nervous passenger but no longer closed his eyes with some of her deft driving maneuvers.

Sarah wanted a quiet New Year's evening with Chuck.

They were both caught up in their own thoughts about what the future had in store for them.

Once they were settled in back at Sarah's, they ordered in Chinese food. After a late dinner they cuddled up on the couch watching the movie Atonement, starring Keira Knightley and James McAvoy.

Chuck was an avid movie watcher, he was immediately caught up in the story. It was a sad story.

It was the story of a fourteen year old sister, Briony, and her jealousy towards her older sister Cecilia and her young handsome man, Robbie. Briony's jealousy ultimately compels her to lie and perjure herself….. she tells the Police that it was Robbie who had raped a friend of Cecilia's, named Lola.

Eventually Briony, now an eighteen year old woman, seeks forgiveness for hurting Cecilia and sending Robbie to jail and ultimately to France with the British Army and the beaches of Dunkirk.

Sarah reflected on Briony's subsequent life journey to find her own atonement for the great wrong she'd done to her sister Cecilia her lover Robbie.

Sarah Walker knew, deep down inside, that from this point onwards she was on a lifelong path of atonement. She stole a quick glance at Chuck. It wasn't going to be easy but she had no doubts that Chuck would walk beside her every step of the way.

Ellie had been right, once you gained Chuck's trust and loyalty, he would always be there for you.

Her phone started vibrating. Sarah knew that only three people had her very private number aside from Graham. She reached for it and heard Tom Corrigan's voice.

Chuck felt Sarah tense up and immediately switched the DVD off. The conversation was quick and terse. He heard only Sarah's side of the conversation.

"When….."

"A bomb …. Can we confirm it was Fulcrum?...Okay, the audit log showed the message…"

"All of them …..You're sure?"

"Should I come into Langley tomorrow?"

"Bye Tom…yes, a disaster for the Agency."

Sarah turned to Chuck after ending the call. The shock was evident on her face. She needed several seconds to gather herself. Sarah Walker, in that moment, experienced both relief and a deep sadness. Graham was gone….she was now free! But Bryce Larkin and five other top field agents were dead, killed by Fulcrum at a secret research location near the Patuxent River. Bryce was gone.

Chuck's nervousness grew by the second. The news must be horrible indeed, because he'd never seen Sarah so visibly upset.

"Chuck, a couple of hours ago Director Graham and six agents were killed in an explosion." There were now tears in Sarah's eyes. "Bryce Larkin was one of the agents who was killed."

Sarah then haltingly went on to tell Chuck about her conversation with Tom Corrigan.

Tom had told Sarah that it was likely that the President would announce the interim head of the CIA in a day or two. Her life, their life together, had just changed.

 **{o}**

 **West Suffield Cemetery, CT**

 **January 3** **rd** **, 2008 11:00am**

The cold wind came from the Northeast, driving dark purple and black clouds before it. The snow flurries swirled around the handful of mourners who had come to inter the mortal remains of Bryce Larkin.

Sarah clung to Chuck's arm as they stood by the graveside. The priest said the final words of committal and they lowered the sealed casket. The local newspapers had carried the sad story that Bryce Larkin, CPA, had died in a tragic car accident.

Bryce's parents were there, lost in their grief, going through the motions and putting on a brave face. The former principal of Suffield Academy, where Bryce had attended, was there. He gave the eulogy and talked about how intelligent, charming and full of promise Bryce Larkin had been when he'd left Suffield Academy to attend Stanford.

No one said anything about his life after Stanford. The people of Suffield who knew Bryce and his family had simply lost touch with Bryce when he'd moved away to Washington. He came home infrequently and didn't stay very long.

There was one other agent Sarah knew, only in passing, a woman named Susanne, who also had made the trip up to Connecticut. She wondered what her connection with Bryce was, but not enough to ask her. They had silently acknowledged each other at the church.

Susanne wondered what the famed Sarah Walker's connection to Bryce was. There had been rumors about them once being partners, was there more? She noticed the tall, handsome man that Sarah was clinging to.

When Susanne got back to Langley she'd make enquiries about him.

Chuck felt the sadness and his anger ebb and flow, like the tides. The Bryce Larkin he met his first year at Stanford was a remarkable young man. Bryce had been as close to him as Morgan. The difference was that Morgan never wavered, never betrayed the trust between them.

Chuck had watched the bevy of Stanford women come and go from Bryce's life. He could never settle down with one woman; and he had no problem attracting the next one ,who seemingly had been waiting to be noticed by Bryce.

He smiled at the memory of the hours Bryce and him had spent learning Klingon in order to talk to each other privately. People who met them believed they'd been friends for years, instead of only two months. He blinked as the snow flurries washed over his face and his eyes. Chuck knew it would take many days and weeks for him to fully make any sense out of his relationship with Bryce Larkin, now dead and gone.

Chuck and Sarah still only knew part of the story about what had happened at the research station astride the Patuxent River. What was very clear, now, was that Fulcrum was involved. Fulcrum had now taken the Intersect off the board. If Fulcrum couldn't have the Intersect ….then no one else could have it either.

 **{o}**

 **January 3** **rd** **, 2008 12:00pm**

The Washington Post was the first to put out on their website that the President would soon announce Mac Showers as the interim Director of the CIA. The report noted that key sources had confirmed that Mr. Shower's appointment had overwhelming support from the West Wing and the Senate.

Washington pundits believed that the confirmation hearings would go smoothly.

 **{o}**

 **Ft. Mead, MD**

 **January 4th, 2008 9:00am **

Chuck was back at the NSA and he was wearing a damn suit and tie. He hated wearing a freaking suit and tie, but the dress code around here was draconian. You either wore a suit and tie or a uniform, period.

Casey and Chuck were cloistered together reviewing the complete file on Fuertes, his courier Giselle Nahmins and the significance of an eight thousand Euro transfer to her through a small bank in San Diego.

They'd been at it for two hours and Chuck had absorbed a lot of information about the IRGCPO and how they moved money around the world. Still, no light bulbs were going off in Chuck's head, no dots were connecting.

Casey was frustrated because his sixth sense was telling him that something big was brewing….. He sensed this was important. He looked over at Chuck, whose head was bent over the file. He was rapidly rereading portions of the thick file….struggling to make a link.

Casey had the decrypted message sent to Giselle Nahmins.

Bartowski didn't have the necessary clearance to see the decrypt. Casey made a snap decision. "Bartowski, here is one more piece of the puzzle."

Chuck read the message out loud. ''She-goat arrives Jan 5. Deliver to friends Jan 6."

Chuck asked the obvious question, "So what does the NSA make out of the message?"

Casey nodded, _Good question, Bartowski_ .

"The DEA and the NSA are speculating that this is a new street drug that will be more addictive than what's out their already. After all, that's what the cartels are in business to do, ship product, create new clients who are addicted."

Chuck nodded his head, but something in the back of his mind kept tugging at him. He closed his eyes and tried to remember where he'd seen the word she-goat before. Nothing.

While he was thinking Casey thought of something else. "Oh, yeah one of the analysts you used to work with at the Navy Yard, Nico Fotos said that another translation came from the actual Greek word, it might be Chimera."

Chuck's eyes lit up. "Well, the dictionary meaning for Chimera, is a monstrous fire breathing, hybrid." Chuck now looked worried. "The hybrid is made up of a lion, with the head of goat arising from its back and a tail that ends with a snake's head."

Casey was trying to keep up with Chuck, leaping from a crazy message to cartel courier about she goats to hybrid monsters.

He grunted that he'd heard Chuck's comment. But the grunt also conveyed his confusion with where Chuck was headed.

Chuck grabbed his phone and googled Chimera, okay, the Iliad, the famous Etruscan bronze and Chimera was mentioned in the Aeneid.

No, that's not it …something else. _Come on memory._

Chuck's eyes blinked open and he smiled at Casey. "Have you have ever read Richard Preston's books."

Casey gave Chuck a really puzzled look.

"Bartowski, no I haven't read Richard Preston's books….what's the connection to what we're doing."

Chuck was getting excited. "Okay, I hope to hell I'm wrong…Preston wrote two books, in 1994 he wrote _The Hot Zone_ about the Ebola virus." Casey was now paying close attention.

Chuck felt a little tremor go through his body, like somebody had walked over his grave. "His second book, was fiction, a novel called, _The Cobra Event_.

Chuck stood up and started walking around, trying to remember the details. It came back to him. "Okay, I don't think this is a new street drug…shit, damn. Listen Casey, in Preston's second book, the plot is about a lone terrorist, in New York, who has brewed up a bioweapon. He called it Chimera because it was a monstrous hybrid of the common cold and smallpox. People who were exposed to the pathogen got something called the Brainpox."

Casey felt the room go chilly. He hoped that Bartowski was wrong. This time, he hoped that Bartowski's ability to connect the dots was bullshit. But he knew that their next stop was General Beckman's office. She needed to hear Bartowski's weird theory, first hand.

 **{o}**

 **Office of Brigadier General Diane Beckman**

 **FT. Mead, MD**

Casey led the way into the General's office and directed Chuck to a plush leather seat facing Beckman's oak desk. The dark wood paneling, the muted lighting, in fact the entire décor, shouted out, _'this is a place of power…. loose the sandals from thy feet.'_

When Chuck was nervous, images from movies and paragraphs from books leapt into his mind. The first image was from the Bond films, when James met with M. He then wondered if Beckman could press a button and one of the oak wall panels would silently slip to one side, showing the entrance into the 'War' room from Dr. Strangelove.

He was so focused on his thoughts that he missed what Casey was saying. Casey's tone was now menacing, "Bartowski, the General wants to hear your theory….now would be a good time."

Chuck blushed bright red. "Sorry Casey, er…..General, ma'am….Have you ever read the book, The Cobra Event?"

Casey closed his eyes and counted slowly. _God, Bartowski, this is not the way you brief a General._

Diane Beckman was curious to meet this young man, this supposed genius. She could be, when she wanted, quite gentle with civilians. _God knows she had to deal with enough of them up on the hill_.

"No, I haven't, Mr. Bartowski. Continue and please make your point….quickly." Chuck nodded.

"The current theory about what the Chimera is.…that it's a new street drug…might be correct. In fact, I hope it is. However, there is another more sinister explanation. It might be a hybrid pathogen, genetically engineered and weaponized. Preston's book talks about combining the common cold with smallpox."

Diane leaned forward and she felt her body tense up. Bioweapons scared the shit out of her. She'd been briefed coming into the job about nuclear threats and other weapons of mass destruction. "I sense you're not finished Mr. Bartowski."

"Ah, sir….I mean… ma'am. That's all I know about this subject, but Preston's first book, which wasn't fiction, was about the Ebola virus. I'm now wondering if it's possible to combine…Ebola and say, smallpox or something else."

Casey then took over the briefing. He laid out several threads of information about Fuertes' operations and the connection with the Iranian Revolutionary Guards. "General, my gut is telling me that whatever is coming into the San Diego area on January 5th, is bad news. I actually hope it turns out to be drugs…but…"

General Beckman interrupted him. "Major, take Mr. Bartowski down to Fort Detrick. The USAMRIID (US Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases) is based there.

"You'll meet with…" Beckman opened a desk drawer, pulled out a small black book and flipped through the pages.

"You'll meet with Colonel Cassandra Fremes….and inform her about your theory. You'll stay at Ft. Detrick, incommunicado, until further notice from me personally. Dismissed."

Casey stood up and, with his right hand, gave Chuck's left shoulder a tap and a gentle tug. He also growled. "Come on Bartowski….we have a chopper to catch."

On the way to the helicopter, Casey looked over at Chuck, "Bartowski, text your blonde CIA skirt and tell her you're going away for a couple of days with me." As they walked onto to the concrete landing pad, Chuck keyed in the text message to Sarah.

Casey grunted out one more instruction. "Add this phrase, _we are rigged for silent running, next couple of days_."

Chuck wondered if they were going on a submarine. He keyed the message in without any complaints because Casey was now in command and mission mode.

Casey held out his hand. "Now, turn your phone off, remove the chip and give it to me."

 **{o}**

 **Same Day-One Hour Later**

 **Langley, VA-CIA **

Sarah and Tom were part of the investigating team going over personnel records for the scientists and technicians who were assigned to Project Omaha. The order came down yesterday for them to be read in on the project.

They were double and triple checking people's backgrounds to see if they could spot the traitor.

Her phone vibrated and she looked down at the message. Shit, she wouldn't see Chuck tonight or for maybe for two or three days.

Sarah knew Major John Casey was a marine. She suspected he was also an Annapolis graduate.

It was pretty obvious that he had given Chuck the final sentence of the text message. _We are rigged for silent running, next couple of days._ What the hell is was going on? She hated what Casey was telling her, no communications going in or coming out. Where had Casey taking her Chuck?

Tom got Sarah's attention with a wave of his hand, he'd found something.

She pushed down her feelings, she compartmentalized her curiosity and concern for Chuck. Tonight in bed she would have time to let herself feel those feelings. Sarah would try to figure out where he was and what he was doing. Spies hated being kept in the dark. She hated the fact that her bed would be empty and her feet would be cold.

 **{o}**

The door to the conference room where Sarah and Tom were working opened suddenly. They saw the tall, spare frame of the new Director Mac Showers slip into the room. Tom and Sarah stood up and greeted him simultaneously "Director."

Mac motioned with his hand for them to sit back down.

He sat down on the other side of the table which was full of personnel files. He looked at the files and all the notes that were written on the board. Tom and Sarah had two possible candidates the CIA needed to do a deep dive on and see if they were the Fulcrum mole.

He looked over at Tom Corrigan. "Tom, I thought you retired last year? Don't you have any hobbies or things your wife wants done around the house?"

Tom liked Mac Showers and was happy to see him back at the helm. Tom's thirty years with the CIA meant that he'd worked for a number of directors. The years Mac Showers spent as Director of the CIA were, in Tom's opinion, some of the best for the agency.

Even though Tom could've used his first name he didn't. "Sir, I'm working on a six month contract…..it'll pay for a new dock at the cottage and help pay for my daughter's university fees."

Mac smiled. "How is…. ". Mac appeared to go deep into his memory. "How is…..Cynthia? Is this her master's degree she's now working on?" Tom nodded.

Sarah sat still and wondered how Mac Showers knew Tom's daughter's name, and how well did Tom know him.

Mac became serious. "I've just received a very disturbing phone call from Diane over at the NSA." Sarah didn't know too many people who went around calling the General Diane.

"Agent Walker, you and Tom will be coming with me. We're going down to Fort Detrick to meet with Diane, and Hortense from the DEA."

He stood up and looked at all the files sitting on the table and their scribbled notes on the white board. "I've assigned two agents to continue your work." He mentioned the name of the lead agent. "Tom, please text him the names of the people you suspect."

They fell in line behind him as he headed at a brisk pace for the roof and their waiting helicopter. Almost as an afterthought, Mac turned his head. "Tom, you best call Nancy and tell her you won't be home for several days….and tell her you'll be out of touch."

He then spoke to Sarah. "I don't know you very well, yet Agent Walker…but if there is someone you need to send the same message to…..best do it now."

Sarah acknowledged Mac's comment with a nod of her head. The thought that warmed her was that there was a special someone, she could reach out to. Chuck was now in her life and if he wasn't 'rigged for silent running', she would've texted him.

Shit, where the hell are you Chuck? Where has Casey taken you?

 **{o}**

 **A/N2-** I bet you're growing tired of me saying I'm not making this up. Alas, Preston's books are real and they make scary reading. Don't read The Cobra Event late at night. If you do and lose sleep….you've been warned.

 **A/N3** \- Next Chapter more is revealed about the mission and the threat. C & S will be put into a familiar situation we saw in season 2.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N** \- Welcome back. A busy time for me, hence the delay in writing this chapter. I'm tying up story threads and we are now into the mission. Once again thank you for the reviews and PMs and your continued interest in this story. Thank you michaelfmx for editing and valued input.

 _It is mine to give to whom I will, like my heart."_

 _J.R.R. Tolkien_

 ** _From the Previous Chapter (16)_**

 _"_ _Agent Walker, you and Tom will be coming with me. We're going down to Fort Detrick to meet with Diane, and Hortense from the DEA."_

 _He stood up and looked at all the files sitting on the table and their scribbled notes on the white board. "I've assigned two agents to continue your work." He mentioned the name of the lead agent. "Tom, please text him the names of the people you suspect."_

 _They fell in line behind him as he headed at a brisk pace for the roof and their waiting helicopter. Almost as an afterthought, Mac turned his head. "Tom, you best call Nancy and tell her you won't be home for several days….and tell her you'll be out of touch."_

 _He then spoke to Sarah. "I don't know you very well, yet Agent Walker…but if there is someone you need to send the same message to…..best do it now."_

 _Sarah acknowledged Mac's comment with a nod of head. The thought that warmed her was that there was a special someone, she could reach out to. Chuck was now in her life and if he wasn't 'rigged for silent running', she would've texted him._

 _Shit, where the hell are you Chuck? Where has Casey taken you?_

 **Chapter 17**

 **January 4th, 2008 12:00pm**

 **Fort Detrick, MD **

Fort Detrick is located twenty three miles from Harper's Ferry, at the confluence of the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers. It's located near the town of Fredrick, Maryland, which is less than an hour by car to the White House.

Contained within its twelve hundred sprawling acres are more than the usual secrets that one might expect.

Very occasionally, pieces of information, disconnected pieces of news, makes it over the protected fences and out into the public domain. It is known that there are several Biosafety Level four (BLS-4) laboratories located within its highly secure walls and razor wire fences.

One of USAMRIID's tasks is to analyze and develop antidotes for some of the nastiest viruses on the face of the earth. Marburg, Ebola, Lassa fever and small pox are just a few of the monsters contained and one hopes, securely stored here.

But…. accidents happen; in 1950 two workers died from exposure to anthrax; in 1964 another worker died when exposed to viral encephalitis.

Those who work in The USAMRIID (US Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases) are endlessly schooled on the need for absolute discretion and the consequences to the world, and to them, if certain information, if certain protocols, are not followed. They are fully aware of the consequences if certain pathogens end up in the wrong hands.

{o}

Sarah looked down on the snow covered countryside below as it flashed by her. The helicopter had received clearance from Ft. Detrick and swept in to land.

There had been little in the way of chatter during the short chopper ride. Tom Corrigan and Mac Showers sat quietly across from Sarah. They all had the noise suppression headphones and comm links on their heads, but each of them was lost in their own private musings.

The security at the Fort was extremely tight. IDs and eye scans were done on Sarah, Tom and the Interim Director of the CIA, Mac Showers. There was a delay as information and identities were cross checked and verified.

Finally, they were led by two armed and stern looking MPs into one of the nondescript gray buildings.

Another armed MP was stationed in front of a red door behind which was one of the BSL-4 laboratories. Thankfully, they turned down a hall, away from the ominous room with the red door and the flashing yellow light.

At the end of the hall was a conference room that actually allowed light from the outside world to filter in.

Sarah felt the tension in the conference room as soon as she walked through the door. At the same moment, her heart warmed and she fought the smile forming on her face. She saw Chuck Bartowski, who automatically beamed at her when he caught sight of her.

His smile disarmed her and, for a second, she hesitated and stopped dead in her tracks.

Carina was tracking Sarah's movements and a smile formed at the corners of her mouth. Who would've thought that a man, any man, would be able to do that to her badass friend Sarah Walker. She quickly looked over at Chuck, Lord, he was so transparent. He adored her.

Casey had also noticed Sarah's reaction to seeing Chuck when she came into the room. He also caught Carina's reaction as she tracked Sarah and Chuck _. The CIA skirt was really into Bartowksi, in a big way_.

He gave a low grunt.

Diane Beckman heard Casey's grunt, she was used to his unusual way of communicating. "What is it Major?"

Casey was surprised but recovered quickly. "Nothing General, just clearing my throat."

She'd only let her guard down for a second but Sarah knew that the other agents in the room had noticed her reaction. She fought the blush rising up from her neck. She walked further into the room, and finally took in the others sitting in the room.

Chuck was sitting between Casey and General Diane Beckman. Sitting across the table from them was Carina Miller and the Director of the DEA, Hortense Williams. There was also a US Army Colonel sitting at the head of the table.

Sarah noted how squared away the red-haired, fortyish looking woman was. Their eyes met and instant judgements and impressions were formed between the two women in those two seconds.

Sarah knew in that moment that this was the Colonel's domain and she was obviously one of the big dogs here.

Mac Showers came in last. He walked into the room as if he belonged here. He sat down at the table as more than an equal. He nodded his head to Carina and then to Hortense Williams. He smiled at Diane Beckman, who reciprocated with a ghost of a smile. He then nodded to Casey.

He looked at the Colonel. "I don't believe we've met before Colonel Fremes, my name is Mac Showers."

Colonel Fremes's reply was curt and civil. "Director Showers, welcome to Fort Detrick."

Sarah and Tom found the last two seats and sat down quickly. There was a sudden silence.

Chuck was new to the Washington game of, 'Who the Hell is Running this Meeting'. He was smiling to himself and wondering who would step up and attempt to take the lead here.

He knew General Beckman outranked the Colonel, but the Colonel wasn't in Beckman's direct chain of command. He pondered what the pecking order was for the three directors…..was one of them more senior than the other? He looked at Casey, who was now wearing a poker face.

He was of no help in enlightening Chuck as to what would come next.

He caught Carina's eyes but damn it, she was as docile and expressionless as he'd ever seen her.

Sarah acknowledged Chuck with her eyes and then her agent's mask slipped into place.

Chuck's leg started to go up and down.

He looked over at the US Army Colonel, to see if she was nervous with all the power players in the room.

As far as he could tell, the Colonel was as cool as a cucumber. Her uniform was immaculate, her red hair was neatly done up in a tight bun and her green eyes proclaimed her intelligence.

Colonel Cassandra Fremes hid her nervousness well. There was indeed a lot of power and influence now sitting in her conference room, and she sensed her next promotion was hanging in the balance.

Cassandra Fremes had never met Mac Showers and only had a passing acquaintance with his history. She had received, however, a phone call an hour ago from her commanding General at the Pentagon, whose single piece of advice was, "Cooperate with these people, Colonel…. fully. Don't screw up!"

The silence in the room was nearing the two minute mark.

Mac looked over at Diane Beckman, he lifted his hand and gestured for her to start.

General Beckman, using her command voice, noted that from this point onwards everything that was said and done was classified, top secret and strictly need to know.

She then asked Casey to brief everyone on what they actually knew. Casey took five minutes to tell everyone about the recently forged link between the Iranian Revolutionary Guards and the Fuertes cartel.

He explained about the mysterious transfer of money, flowing from the Revolutionary Guards Intelligence branch; he shared the contents of the decrypted message and its cryptic message. _'She-goat arrives Jan 5. Deliver to friends Jan 6.'_

Casey then told Chuck to explain his theory to the group.

Chuck wondered how he had managed to once again find himself in the spotlight and center stage. He stumbled over his first few words but recovered and told everyone how he'd connected the dots.

"In my mind, the key piece was that they used the word 'she-goat'."

Chuck went on to explain how he was connecting up the dots. "My Greek colleague back at the Navy Yard, Nico Fotos, says the Greek word for she-goat is _Chímaira_. And that this is also the root of the English word for Chimera.

"So, I know this is a giant leap but I read this book back in 1999."

Chuck outlined the plot in Preston's book, The Cobra Event. Where the lone terrorist creates a Chimera, a deadly hybrid pathogen. He then took a deep breath and sat back.

Cassandra Fremes started. "I'm assuming you have more than this…..this theory." She looked directly at Chuck. "I've read both of the books you mentioned…..your theory seems a little tenuous to me…..Mr. Bartowski."

She turned to General Beckman. "General, with respect, we can't go tilting at every windmill or wild theory that pops up. We don't have the resources."

Sarah saw Chuck blush and wanted in that moment to walk over, sit beside him and hold his hand.

It was John Casey who spoke up. "Colonel, I agree this is….. on the surface, a 'wild ass' theory." He looked over at Chuck. "However, from previous experience working with Mr. Bartowski, I think we should dig a little deeper on this matter…..if it's bullshit, fine….we move on."

Beckman spoke up. "I've talked with Hortense and we've agreed to put together a joint team made up of Major Casey, Agent Miller, Agent Walker, Mr. Corrigan as the senior analyst and Mr. Bartowski as tech support and as another analyst."

Colonel Fremes nodded her head. "Fair enough, but I'm not sure what you want from me and my staff?"

Mac Showers had been listening carefully to the proceedings. He leaned forward. "Colonel, we need you to educate the team, in the unlikely event Mr. Bartwoski is correct, on what to do if they do indeed encounter this Chimera."

Colonel Fremes didn't like being told what to do on her own turf. "My advice, Director, is if your ad hoc team think they've found a Chimera, close the door, lock themselves in the room, pray they haven't been infected and wait for us to arrive. If they try to run…. they may infect thousands of other people."

Beckman spoke next and her voice dripped with authority. "Colonel, I believe you've talked with your commanding General." Cassandra nodded, yes.

"Then train this team in how to detect pathogens, what to do if they encounter them, who to contact, how to contain or destroy the pathogen and, most importantly, how to administer any antidotes in case they are infected by known pathogens."

General Beckman looked over at Mac Showers, who gave her a nod, and then at Hortense Williams, who mouthed a _yes._

She then turned back to Cassandra Fremes and said in a level voice, "Have I made myself absolutely clear, Colonel?"

Cassandra sat up at attention. "As a bell, General."

{o}

Mac Showers smiled to himself as he watched Diane 'slap' the Colonel on the wrist for her less than courteous behaviour.

He then shared his own summary of information that the CIA, MI6 and Colonel Fremes had collected on bioweapons over the years.

"In 1989, a Soviet germ warfare scientist, named Vladimir Pasechnik defected to the British, while visiting Paris on order of his bosses to purchase specialized laboratory equipment. In the next three months, as they debriefed Pasechnik, MI6 learned more about what the Soviets were doing with biological weapons than all the Intelligence agencies had learned in the previous twenty years.

"Colonel Fremes will share with you more of what we learned. When I read the first reports from Pasechnik's debrief, it was like something out of Frankenstein's laboratory."

He paused, time to tell the team what his primary concern was.

"The reason Diane, Hortense and myself view this as a serious threat, the reason we are not dismissing Mr. Bartowski's theory out of hand…. is because we also learned from Pasechnik that the Soviets had sold secrets about genetically modified bioweapons to Libya, Iraq, India, Cuba and…Iran."

Diane Beckman checked her watch then looked up at the group. "Major Casey, you will be the team leader. Your team will have any and all resources you might require. In seven hours, you will be flown out to San Diego to two safe houses. You will establish a base of operations."

Hortense Williams updated the group on the transfer that was to take place. "The handover of the _she-goat_ , whether it's a new drug or God help us, a super bug, will be on January 6th.

"Because of the money transfer, to a San Diego bank, we believe the item will be delivered somewhere in the San Diego area. We are now covertly watching all of the cartels known distribution routes as well as some suspected channels. Agent Miller will update you on anything we uncover."

{0}

 **January 4, 2008-On US Navy - C37-B (Gulfstream 550) 47,000 ft**

 **300 Miles from San Diego -8:50pm Local Time**

Casey, Carina and Tom were still asleep in their comfortable padded leather reclining seats. The US Navy had equipped this aircraft to move important dignitaries and senior military personnel around the world, comfortably.

They'd all initially drifted off to sleep when they'd boarded the plane three and a half hours ago.

Everyone was exhausted and somewhat traumatized from what they'd learned over the last several hours. Colonel Fremes had given them a lightning course on the pathogens they might encounter.

The team now had special airtight suits, detection equipment to quickly identify two dozen different pathogens they might encounter and had been briefed on how to administer antidotes, that the USAMRIID had developed, to deal with several really nasty hybrid pathogens.

Chuck slept for three hours and then woke up in a cold sweat. He rubbed his eyes and moved carefully, so he wouldn't jostle Sarah awake. She was still out like a light.

He reflected on the last twenty-four hours. His contract with the government didn't have a clause to go looking for, and contain, the most deadly pathogens known to humankind. Shit. He needed to renegotiate his contract.

Colonel Fremes had a PHD in microbiology and had been extremely helpful, after General Beckman had given her a kick in the ass. In the space of an hour and a half, she told the team about what the Soviet Union had been doing. She then covered what they knew Iran was doing in this area and what USAMRIID suspected.

It dawned on Chuck that the human race could never not open a Pandora's Box.

The scientists seemed to be the ones who always opened the freaking box.

In the First World War it was the chemists, inventing mustard and chlorine gas; in the Second World War it was the physicists splitting the atom; it now appeared that it would be the microbiologists and the geneticists who were opening the next Pandora's Box.

Colonel Fremes had finally shared that Iran was supposedly developing a stealth pathogen. This apparently was the 'holy grail' of bioweapons designers.

The information on what Iran was doing had been shared by the Mossad, who had passed it through back channels to USAMRIID.

A stealth pathogen was one in which you infected a population with no obvious impact. The idea was that you could trigger the pathogen later. The example that the Colonel shared with them was a virus like the common cold or herpes simplex. These viruses lay dormant in millions of people, until something in their environment triggered them.

Chuck realized that the psychological impact of a stealth virus could be devastating on a country. Also, the initiator of the stealth virus could use it as a means to blackmail a city or a government at the right moment.

Chuck did a quick check list in his mind about the new responsibilities that Casey had assigned to him.

He was responsible for the suits, the detection equipment and the portable laptop that contained a huge inventory of pathogens and any existing antidotes.

Sarah was in charge of a suitcase of antidotes and broad spectrum antibiotics, which may or may not work, if they got exposed. She was also going to lead the charge into danger with Carina and Casey. An armory was even now being dropped off at the two safe houses.

Tom Corrigan would coordinate and integrate any and all intelligence from the three agencies.

Chuck rubbed his eyes and yawned. How the hell would they find the Iranian cell that was going to receive the Chimera _. God please let it just be drugs, let me be wrong._

When he looked at Sarah, she was awake and looking at him with those iridescent dark blue eyes. She reached out with her hand and touched his face. "What time is it?"

"About 9pm, we should be landing soon."

Sarah and Chuck had adjusted the arm rests so that they could be together. Their heads were almost touching so that they could talk quietly and confidentially to each other.

Chuck had never felt this close to someone. "Sarah, are you scared, I mean about what we learned?"

Sarah and danger had been travelling companions for over a decade. "Chuck, death can come in many forms. I grant you that if I had my choice, being exposed to a pathogen would not be on my list, at all."

Chuck didn't need false bravado from her. "Sarah, I'm worried about you….and the others. We have no idea what we're facing until we can identify the pathogen and figure out whether there's an antidote."

Sarah moved even closer to him. "Chuck, of course I'm scared, so are Carina and Casey….but this is what we do." She gave him a quick kiss. "And Chuck, you and Tom are going to be our ace in the hole….you'll keep us all safe…okay."

Chuck hoped the hell Sarah was right because, right now, he felt more like a joker than an ace.

o}

 **January 5, 2008**

 **2235 & 2237 Cliff St. San Diego, CA 2:30am**

It took the team three hours to unload their equipment from the two black SUVs into the garages. Casey, Carina and Sarah sorted out and inventoried the armory. Chuck and Tom hooked up and tested the computer and communication links to the NSA, DEA and CIA.

The NSA had tasked a satellite to cover the San Diego area and Chuck and Tom now had a real time link. General Beckman informed them that they would have an unarmed Predator drone, with infrared capacity in position tomorrow morning.

Carina had checked in with the ten DEA teams now covering the San Diego area. Other agents were pumping their informants for any news, no matter how trivial about, Fuertes and his operations.

Casey, Tom and Carina moved into 2235 Cliff St. and Chuck and Sarah moved into 2237. The two safe houses were minutes away from the I-8, I-805, I-15 and the 163. Depending on traffic, they could respond quickly and head north, east, south or west, once they received any useful intelligence.

Sarah and Chuck were exhausted and needed to grab some sleep. Casey, like any good Marine, had told them they would meet for breakfast at 7:30am and have an 'ops' meeting to map out their tasks for tomorrow.

Sarah came out of the washroom, turned off the light and collapsed into bed beside Chuck. "Chuck, did you notice that everyone automatically assumed that we'd be together? Carina never even said a word when Casey told everyone what house to go to."

Chuck managed a tired smile. "Sarah, I think the fact that we're together is the worst kept secret in the universe."

Sarah cuddled in close to Chuck and they stayed like that for a couple of minutes. She could feel Chuck relax beside her.

She spoke softly to him. "Chuck, as much as I'd like to jump your bones right now…..I think the spirit's willing but…. the flesh is really tired…..so…." When she got no response, she looked up and saw that Chuck had already fallen asleep. She smiled to herself, running her hands through his hair once just to settle herself down, then snuggled further into him before closing her eyes.

{o}

 **January 5** **th** **, 2008**

 **2235 Cliff St. San Diego- 7:30am **

The five of them were gathered around the kitchen table. A pot of fresh brewed coffee was being passed around and there were bagels and croissants sitting in the middle. Casey, true to form, was ready for the meeting.

He'd been up since 6:00am. Tom had also risen early and had prepared and handed out an intelligence summary gleaned from all three agencies. The bottom line was that they still didn't know where the handover of the 'goods', whatever they were, was going to be.

Chuck and Carina had contacted her asset, Esteban, half an hour ago. Just before he left for work at the bank. They needed information on account 13-74125, held by Giselle Nahmins. They'd already confirmed that the address for the account holder was fictitious.

Carina was almost certain that there was a senior person in the bank who was helping the cartel and protecting Giselle Nahmins from any scrutiny.

Esteban had reluctantly agreed to give Carina his access code and password to get into the bank's system. He sounded worried on the phone that the bank's internal security and audit log would know it was him accessing the information. He'd lose his job.

Chuck grabbed the phone from Carina. "Esteban, I guarantee you that the audit log will never know your code was used. You have my word. I won't leave you hanging in the breeze. Trust me."

After they hung up Carina smiled at Chuck. "Way to work the asset, Chuck, wow, you even gave him the old …trust me line."

Chuck felt a flush of anger. He'd been telling Esteban the truth. "Carina, when I tell someone to trust me…..I…I'd never…let them down." Carina patted his arm. "Relax Chuck, I believe you….I don't think you have it in you to betray someone's trust."

When they came into the room and sat down at the kitchen table, Sarah saw that Chuck was upset. She looked over at Carina who gave her a wink and mouthed, ' _It's okay, relax_.' Sarah filed her questions away, she'd check in with Chuck later.

Casey grunted and started the meeting. "You've all read Tom's summary, so we're still looking to see if we can spot the handover and, most importantly, where they're taking, the drugs or the pathogen to."

They started brainstorming about any steps they hadn't yet taken. The discussion went on for fifteen minutes with Casey jotting down good ideas.

Chuck had been observing the discussion and contributed little. Then he had an idea. "Casey, I'm going to hack into the bank and get information on withdrawals for Giselle's account. I want to see if there's any pattern to the ATM amounts taken out…say for the last two years"

Sarah wondered out loud. "Casey, if this is really sponsored by the Iranians then… they've probably had agents in place for at least a year…who knows maybe more. Especially if this isn't about drugs."

Casey waved his hand at Chuck. "What are you waiting for, hack into the damn bank!" He turned to Carina. "Can the DEA get us three beat up non-descript cars. I want us to start cruising the areas Fuertes, gang operates in."

Carina and Sarah knew that this would probably be a waste of time. Casey caught the look that passed between them. "I know it's a time waster…but I hate sitting on my ass and doing nothing."

{o}

 **January 5** **th** **, 2008**

 **2235 Cliff St. San Diego- 8:30pm**

Casey was the last one to get back to the house. He was in a foul mood. Driving around San Diego for ten hours, in a beat up shit box, and hoping to get lucky had been a forlorn hope.

Sarah and Carina had also found nothing. Everyone was pretty sure that the delivery had taken place.

They were no further ahead and feeling gloomy.

But then two pieces of good news followed one after the other. A DEA undercover agent had an asset working in Fuertes' operations in San Diego. They now had a location for a very special package that was delivered five hours ago.

The DEA and FBI had already grabbed images from all the CCTV cameras within a four block area, hoping to see something. They now had several eight by ten glossies of four people. The images were grainy and all the people were wearing hats or hoodies. But one photo from a traffic camera three blocks from the meeting gave the team their first look at Giselle Nahmins.

Facial recognition had been run by the CIA and they now had a real name and identity. Giselle's real name was Azar Shir-Del.

Tom now had access to almost all of the CIA databases. He printed out the CIA file for Azar and gave each team member a copy.

 ** _Azar Shir-Del_** _, (meaning of name flame, and lion heart) _

_DOB Sometime in 1980, Tehran, Names of Father and Mother unknown, possibly an orphan_

 _Recruited by Iranian Guards Corps- Intelligence, 1996. Speaks Farsi, Arabic, Italian, French and fluent English._

 _Last known sighting was Paris 2002. Whereabouts, unknown. Suspected involvement in several operations and assassinations, Paris, Cairo and Milan._

 _The first appearance of Giselle Nahmins was at the same time that Azar was last sighted….2002._

Casey, Carina and Sarah had no doubt that Giselle had been in the United States for many years. It now appeared she was forging ties with the cartels and possibly recruiting agents. Casey hated chasing a ghost…..now he was looking for a person who had a past.

He sat back and smiled. _Now we're getting somewhere._

The next piece of good news came from Chuck, who rushed into the room with a big grin plastered on his face.

"God, don't you just love a really good algorithm! And let's not forget stochastic models!"

Everyone looked at Chuck, waiting for more.

"Okay, Carina please thank Esteban for helping us. I think we've narrowed it down where one of the Iranians might live or where he or she might work."

Chuck then explained the process that he, Tom and Jonathan Swinson had been involved in for the last eight hours. But first he had to tell Sarah who Jonathan Swinson was. "Casey and Carina know him, he's in charge of FININT at the NSA….you know, finance and all the banking transactions around the world."

Chuck explained that he'd managed to download two years of information on the account held by the mysterious Giselle Nahmins (Azar Shir-Del).

Jonathan Swinson, the finance guru at the NSA, had long believed that terrorist cells, who had been in place for several months or more, needed regular funding. If they were based in Western countries, the best way to easily access money was through ATMs.

The next piece of learning from the actions of past terrorist cells on a long term operation was that they usually had at least one member who got a low paying job, using false identities. Working in a mail room or a janitorial job was the perfect position for the cell member.

The terrorist cell needed money to fund themselves, to eat, pay rent and pay their utility bills and not draw suspicion to themselves. The person who had a legitimate job would be the one who most often would go to the ATM to withdraw funds from their special account to supplement the low take home pay.

Chuck could see that Casey was getting inpatient.

"Okay, I'll skip to the good part. When I was working for those three long years at the Navy Yard, Jonathan and I took the information from past terrorist cells that had been captured. We reviewed all of their banking data and ATM history.

"Guess what? Even when the terrorist tries to be clever….you know….using different ATMs…there still is a pattern and, usually you can estimate a point of origin, a nexus."

Chuck was now excited. He was pacing back and forth. The algorithm that he and Jonathan had designed allowed them to plot points on a map and then suggested whether there might be a point of origin.

"You know the really neat thing is that the ATM distance from a suspected central point usually only varies by…."

Casey growled at Chuck. "Bartowski, I'm tired and hungry get to the ….fu…get to the point."

Chuck smiled. "Jonathan and I believe there are three possible addresses that this terrorist or spy might work at…ahhh, with a 90% confidence level."

Tom passed out the three addresses. The problem was they were six story office buildings. Sarah groaned. "Chuck, there are a lot of people going in and out of those buildings. How the hell will we know which one is the terrorist?"

This time Tom answered. "We'll set up HD cameras at the entrances and patch all the images we capture into the CIA/FBI databases. I suggest we patch the images into MI6 and Mossad to see if we get a hit from their databases."

He paused as everyone was digesting what he'd just said. "Then we wait and pray something turns up."

{o}

Chuck stayed on with Tom making arrangements for the HD cameras to be set up at the three possible locations. Casey went into his room to give Beckman, Hortense Williams and Mac Showers a mission update.

Sarah decided to head back to their house.

She stopped dead in her tracks. Did she just say to herself 'our' house? As she walked next door the thought of being with, living with Chuck Bartowski seemed so natural. Not being near him and not being with him…..that seemed unnatural.

Carina followed Sarah over to the other safe house. They needed to talk.…about Chuckles.

Sarah, without looking behind her knew Carina was following her. When she opened the front door she looked back and held the door open for Carina. Carina gave her an intense look then quickly brushed past her. "I need a drink and we need to talk….agent to agent."

Sarah pointed to the drinks cabinet that held some cognac, single malt and vodka. She grabbed a corner of the sofa and waited for Carina to get a drink. Carina poured two vodkas, gave one to Sarah and curled up in one of the leather reclining chairs.

"Alright Sarah, what's the story with you and Chuck?"

"Story, what story?" Carina shook her head. "Seriously, you're going to try and deflect…?"

Sarah sighed, "…okay, as you can clearly see we're together. When this mission is over and we head back to Washington, we'll be living together."

Carina took a healthy sip. "Sarah, how long do you think this little bubble you've created for yourself….will last?"

Sarah remained silent and sipped her drink.

Carina pressed on…Sarah, her best friend… was living in a fantasy world, that couldn't last. "Does he know what you do, who you really are? Does he know about Bryce?"

Sarah smiled. "Carina, yes, yes and most definitely yes."

Carina's eyes widened with surprise, she sat forward. "How long before you grow bored with him? Sarah Walker, you are a spy….a great one…, you're meant to be out there, with your hair on fire. Not playing Chuckles girlfriend….I mean what comes next…marriage…children?"

Carina was almost standing. "Sarah, what about your career? You could one day be a deputy director or a station chief. You destiny is to rise in the ranks and serve your country."

Sarah felt the uncertainty of her situation and their future. My God, she was just barely into the early stages of being with Chuck. They hadn't even had a chance to talk about any of those things. Carina's questions were good ones. But she also knew that Carina was projecting onto her…some of her own life questions.

"First, don't call him Chuckles…." Sarah paused until she got a nod from Carina.

"Carina, I won't be doing what I used to do for the CIA. Those days are over, they finally died when Graham perished in that explosion. I don't know what comes next for Chuck and me."

Two pairs of intense blue eyes locked onto each other.

Sarah broke the silence. "Carina, my destiny is what I choose. I didn't choose working for the CIA ….Graham coerced and manipulated me over these last ten years. Now I get to choose….and Chuck Bartowski will help me make those decisions."

{o}

 **A/N-2** the bioweapons stuff and Vladimir Pasechnik, not made up; see Pentagon's Brain-chapter 17, author, Annie Jacobsen

 **A/N-3** we're getting there another chapter or so and an epilogue


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N-** I offer the readers following this story a sincere apology for the delay. Good reasons, real life demands, etc... but I know I hate waiting for updates, _so..mea culpa._ Once again, thanks for the reviews and PMs. Michaelfmx, merci for editing and your valued input.

 _"_ _She was beholden to no man, held her tongue for none, she would stand before the gods themselves and inform them of what they could do with their immortal souls."_

― A.H. Septimius, Crowns Of Amara: The Return Of The Oracle

 ** _From the Previous Chapter (17)_**

 _Sarah, without looking behind her_ , _knew Carina was following her. When she opened the front door_ , _she looked back and held the door open for Carina. Carina gave her an intense look_ , _then quickly brushed past her. "I need a drink and we need to talk….agent to agent."_

 _Sarah pointed to the drinks cabinet that held some cognac, single malt and vodka. She grabbed a corner of the sofa and waited for Carina to get a drink. Carina poured two vodkas, gave one to Sarah and curled up in one of the leather reclining chairs._

 _"_ _Alright Sarah, what's the story with you and Chuck?"_

 _"_ _Story, what story?" Carina shook her head. "Seriously, you're going to try and deflect…?"_

 _Sarah sighed, "…okay, as you can clearly see_ , _we're together. When this mission is over and we head back to Washington, we'll be living together."_

 _Carina took a healthy sip. "Sarah, how long do you think this little bubble you've created for yourself….will last?"_

 _Sarah remained silent and sipped her drink._

 _Carina pressed on…Sarah, her best friend… was living in a fantasy world that couldn't last. "Does he know what you do, who you really are? Does he know about Bryce?"_

 _Sarah smiled. "Carina, yes, yes and most definitely yes."_

 _Carina's eyes widened with surprise, she sat forward. "How long before you grow bored with him? Sarah Walker, you're a spy….a great one…, you're meant to be out there, with your hair on fire. Not playing Chuckles' girlfriend….I mean_ , _what comes next…marriage…children?"_

 _Carina was almost standing. "Sarah, what about your career? You could one day be a deputy director or a station chief. Your destiny is to rise in the ranks and serve your country."_

 _Sarah felt the uncertainty of her situation and their future. My God, she was just barely into the early stages of being with Chuck. They hadn't even had a chance to talk about any of those things. Carina's questions were good ones. But she also knew that Carina was projecting onto her…some of her own life questions._

 _"_ _First, don't call him Chuckles…." Sarah paused until she got a nod from Carina._

 _"_ _Carina, I won't be doing what I used to do for the CIA. Those days are over, they finally died when Graham perished in that explosion. I don't know what comes next for Chuck and me."_

 _Two pairs of intense blue eyes locked onto each other._

 _Sarah broke the silence. "Carina, my destiny is what I choose. I didn't choose working for the CIA ….Graham coerced and manipulated me over these last ten years. Now I get to choose….and Chuck Bartowski will help me make those decisions."_

 ** _{o}_**

 **Chapter 18**

 **January 6** **th** **, 2008**

 **2237 Cliff St. San Diego, CA 6:30am**

Chuck was wide awake.

Sarah was snuggled in close to him with her arm resting across his waist. A soft snore escaped her lips. He gently changed his position without waking her. He was worried about this mission. The stakes were incredibly high, especially if there was a hybrid pathogen, a deadly virus... in the hands of an Iranian sleeper cell.

He and Tom had arranged to have the HD cameras at the three suspected sites. They were up and running. The captured pictures would be slaved into the NSA database, who would then make sure that the CIA, FBI and DEA also received the images.

Mac Showers had contacted his old colleague, 'C' in MI6 and the head of Mossad. Both gentlemen agreed to run the images through their facial recognition software.

Now they had to be patient.

Chuck reached out and touched Sarah's blonde tresses. They were silky and the lavender scent of her shampoo was now very familiar to him. When he'd come back in to 'their' house, Sarah was already in bed. But she wasn't asleep. She smiled at him. "Hurry up and get ready for bed…..Chuck." She then patted the space beside her with her right hand. That's all the encouragement he'd needed.

The welcome he received when he slipped under the duvet was…..to quote Devon….awesome.

Sarah drifted up through the layers of sleep and felt Chuck's touch and his fingers on her tresses. She didn't open her eyes; she played possum.

It was monumentally hard not to move while Chuck was touching her ….finally she murmured, "Chuck, why are you stroking my hair?" He laughed, "Because, it's covering my bare chest….and I love the feel of it."

Sarah asked what time it was. Chuck told her it was 6:30.

She got up and brushed her teeth and did a quick calculation in her head. They were supposed to all meet at 7:30 for the operations meeting, per Casey's standing order. It would take her twenty minutes to get ready. Chuck needed ten minutes.

She smiled to herself. There was just enough time. She got back into bed. "Chuck, quickly….go brush your teeth and get back in here….hurry."

 **January 6** **th** **, 7:45am**

 **398 C St.-Encinitas-San Diego**

Esteban was dressed in his blue business suit. He hurriedly took a last sip of his morning coffee. He was ready to head out to work, that's when he saw the Crown Victoria pull up through a side window in his dining room. The four men who emerged from the car immediately caught his attention. They were all wearing black windbreakers, black pants, gloves and baseball caps.

The tallest man looked up at Esteban's house. Esteban knew he was in trouble. It was the sense that the prey had in the presence of the predator. Carina had told him what to do, if he felt in danger.

He rushed into his bedroom and grabbed the burner phone she'd given him. He sent a text and then called the number…"Come on…come on Carina ...answer….please…"

 **{o}**

 **2237 Cliff St. San Diego, CA 7:45am**

Carina's burner phone beeped with a text message and then the phone started ringing. Everyone around the table stopped talking as Carina took the call. In seconds, she was on her feet and walking towards the front door.

"Esteban…listen…I'll be there in twenty minutes. Remember, no matter what they do to you, admit nothing. As soon as you tell them anything…..a minute later they'll kill you…." The phone went dead.

Sarah, Chuck, Casey and Tom stood up, waiting. Carina quickly told them her asset was in trouble. Carina turned to Tom and gave him the address for Esteban's house. "Get the predator drone circling over that address….NOW!"

She turned to the others. "Casey, have you loaded the SUVs for action?" Carina knew from Casey's nod they were ready to go. "Okay, I'll explain in the SUV….let's go."

Casey had equipped each SUV with identical tactical equipment and a small armory. Inside each SUV there was a laptop that had a satellite communications link. They only needed the one SUV and piled in.

The route up to Esteban's house was easy, taking the I-805 and then the I-5. If Casey used the flashers and lady luck was with them, they could be there in twenty minutes.

Carina gave Casey and Sarah a detailed brief about the layout of Esteban's house. Chuck listened with one ear as he talked to Tom through the earbud with his other. The predator was in place and feeding them both infrared and regular images.

Everyone knew that they'd only have infrared images for another thirty minutes, then the sun would be too high in the sky and heat the roof, obliterating their ability to see inside the house.

Chuck interrupted. "Okay, I've got five people. Three images are in a room …looks like the dining room, hard to tell. One image is near the front door and one near the rear." They spent the next ten minutes coming up with a plan to breach the house and save Esteban.

A rough plan quickly emerged. Sarah and Carina would take specially shaped explosive charges and blow the back door. Casey would do the same to the front. The sequence would be back door, then front door, then a stun grenade, back door, then front door.

The three agents sorted out zones of fire in the dining room.

Casey had chosen the Heckler & Koch MP5SD3, a suppressed compact weapon, ideal for urban combat.

When they arrived at the house, Casey turned off the blue flashers and edged up into an alley that ran along the back of the houses. They'd all seen the Crown Vic parked on the street just outside the dining room window of Esteban's house.

The main problem was that the sun had risen at 6:52am. Carina could get everyone positioned but the final ten yards to the back and front doors would leave them exposed to the Sicarios posted at each door.

Chuck had an idea. "Casey, do you have the NSA incinerator in the armory." Casey looked offended. "Of course I do."

Chuck smiled. "Listen, give me one of them. I can slip down the line of cars and put it under the Crown Vic and then blow it remotely. That will distract everyone in the house."

Casey looked devastated. "What….are you mad ….you're going to blow up the Crown Vic?"

Carina cut Casey off. "Chuck, blow the fucking Crown Vic….we need to move….now! My asset is being tortured."

Three minutes later, Chuck was back in the van. Carina and Sarah were as close to the back door as they dared. Casey was waiting in a bush to the right of the front door.

Chuck blew up the Crown Vic, which bought them the extra ten seconds they needed, as all the Sicarios rushed to the side window in the dining room.

Casey, Sarah and Carina laid the breaching charges and executed their plan. The stun grenades bought them those five precious seconds of sound, smoke and chaos. The four Sicarios, still reeling from the explosions and stun grenades, still managed to get off two shots at the harbingers of death rushing towards them. One bullet hit Casey in the middle of his vest. It slowed him down for two seconds.

No prisoners would be taken this day. Carina, Sarah and Casey cleared the room and took out the Sicarios with precise three-shot bursts from their suppressed MP5s.

Esteban was tied to a chair. He was bloodied but still conscious.

Sarah noticed that as soon as he saw Carina, relief flooded his face. Carina's face reflected back Esteban's look and she gave him a warm and genuine smile. Sarah didn't miss the strong connection between them….. _I wonder_?

Carina rushed over to him and, a knife materialized in her right hand. She cut him loose and took his face in her hands. "How are you?"

Sarah and Casey, after checking each body and clearing away their weapons, walked over to Carina.

She was talking softly and urgently to Esteban. She helped him out of the chair. He stood up slowly, leaning heavily on her. All the while Carina was checking him out to see what damage the Sicarios had done to him.

Sarah's eyes widened when Carina opened her arms and gingerly hugged Esteban and whispered something into his ear.

While Sarah had been on the CAT squad, she had seen Carina with any number of men, including former assets.

This type of reaction was a first. Carina was being tender with Esteban, she rushed into the bedroom and grabbed a blanket from the bedroom and draped it around his shoulders.

Sarah saw the cuts on his bare chest and arms. They'd also burned him with cigarettes.

The Scicarios had broken two of Esteban's fingers and his nose.

The team had gotten to Esteban before the Scicarios started to use the blowtorch sitting beside the now empty chair.

Casey looked over at him, Esteban may not have felt it but he was a very lucky man.

Sarah caught sight of Carina's eyes, they were moist. "I assume you want to go to the clinic with Esteban." Carina nodded and turned her full attention back to Esteban, her asset.

Carina looked down on Esteban and reached out and hugged him again. She knew that Esteban's life had changed forever, and she had been the author of his future misfortune…. by recruiting him.

From this moment on everything he knew would change. His safety, and his family's safety, now depended on him staying dead for a couple of years. He would be given a new identity and put into witness protection.

Esteban was close to his family, Carina knew that. Not being able to see them would crush him.

She made herself a promise in that moment that he wouldn't lose her. He needed her help him to survive the future loneliness and separation that was his reward for helping the DEA.

Tom Corrigan, back in the safe house, had arranged for medical aid and a cleanup team. They had just arrived. This was now a Federal Crime scene. The local police sealed off a two block area and kept everyone else out.

One hour later, the local news station KGTV broke the news that a resident of Encinitas, a young man, named Esteban Lopez had died in a natural gas explosion. Ten minutes before the announcement, an LAPD patrol car arrived at the Lopez home, in Los Angeles, to tell the parents of the tragic loss of their second son.

 **{o}**

 **Four Hours Later on route to 2237 Cliff St. San Diego, CA 1:00pm**

The drive back in the SUV had been an interesting one. Carina had gone to the special CIA clinic with Esteban. Sarah and Casey were sitting up front and Chuck was in the backseat, but leaning forward to catch the conversation between Casey and Sarah.

Casey asked the obvious question. "So, what's with Carina and her asset, she seemed awfully concerned about him. I mean, the guy got a tap on the shoulders, he'll be right as rain in ten days….no permanent damage."

Sarah was aware of Chuck. "Casey, Esteban isn't a trained agent…..I mean….you're right, physically everything will heal nicely…."

Chuck jumped in. "Sarah, he needs someone like Dr. Ow…..". Chuck caught himself, that information was private. "…He needs a therapist trained in trauma to talk him through things…."

Casey grunted _, therapist for what..some broken fingers, nose and a few cuts…shit_.

He saw Chuck's reflection in the mirror. "So, Carina looked….ahh…" He stole a glance towards Sarah. "…is Carina compromised with her asset….this Esteban guy?"

Chuck was confused. "So, what if Carina really likes him….isn't that a good thing, I mean to like your asset?"

Sarah spoke up. "Actually, it's frowned upon. A serious no-no in our business. It makes the agent less effective, if they're compromised." Casey nodded his head in agreement.

Chuck shook his head and reached out with his right hand and touched Sarah's shoulder. "Well, I'm sure glad I was never you're asset."

Sarah thanked all the gods that she'd never been assigned to be his handler, especially now as she felt the warmth of his hand on her shoulder.

 **{0}**

 **2237 Cliff St. San Diego, CA 4:00pm**

Carina was now back with them in the house. Esteban would be in the clinic for another couple of days. Everyone was sitting around the table getting an update on the day's intelligence from Tom.

"So, we've identified a person of interest from one of the sites we were monitoring. The information is coming in from MI6 and has been confirmed by French Intelligence, the DGSE: Directorate-General for External Security."

The energy in the room spiked with that piece of news. Tom handed out a printout to each team member.

 ** _Kazem Veisi_** _(Name means: a man who hides his anger)_

 _DOB March 23, 1977,_ _Neauphle-le-Château, suburb of Paris._

 _French and Iranian citizenship._

 _Speaks French, Farsi, English and Arabic._

 _Special Note! Kazem's father, Sadegh_ , _was a close friend of_ _Ruhollah Khomeini._

 _Sadegh was born in_ _Khomeyn, Markazi Province, Persia, the same town that Khomeini was born in._ _He went with Khomeini when he was exiled from Iran, by the Shah…for fifteen years to Neauphle-le-Château, a suburb of Paris._

 _Kazem_ _recruited by Iranian Guards Corps- Intelligence in or around 1995._

 _Prior to being seen in San Diego (today) he was last seen by western intelligence services in Milan in 1997. We have no knowledge of his movements from 1997 until now._

 _Suspected involvement in three bombings, Baghdad, Milan and Beirut._

Casey sat back and smiled. "Okay, let's put our two surveillance teams on this guy. We need to find out where he works, where he lives, where he eats and where he shits."

Casey and the team had access to the best resources available to the federal agencies. The FBI had two surveillance teams that were, simply put, the best in the business.

All of the FBI team members were average height, average looks and average everything, except at following someone so they wouldn't be noticed. The teams were thoroughly trained in counter surveillance techniques and how to avoid them.

The teams had been briefed that Kazem was highly trained. He would be on the lookout for people following him. The ace in the hole was that the surveillance teams could hang back…..they had a satellite and a predator drone tracking Kazem's movements when he was out in the open.

Now they had to be patient and let the information come to them.

Casey then shared some more information with everyone sitting around the table.

"Okay, apparently USAMRIID has their own special forces team attached to them at Ft. Detrick. They, along with Colonel Cassandra Fremes, have flown out to San Diego and are in another safe house a mile from here. I'm going to see the good Colonel this afternoon."

Chuck piped up, "So, is Cassandra Fremes is now a believer….I mean, she was pretty skeptical back in Maryland. I don't think she bought into my theory."

Casey shrugged his shoulders. "She's here….my orders are if we find where these rats have a nest….. and decide to make an assault. The Colonel and her special forces team will be with us."

 **{o}**

 **Next Day**

 **2237 Cliff St. San Diego, CA 2:00pm**

It had taken nearly a day but now the team knew several things. The FBI surveillance teams had done their job well.

They knew Kazem's cover name was Lajos Rolko. He had a green card and a Hungarian passport. He'd entered the US two years ago. Lajos was now working at an insurance broker down off Front St.

Discrete inquiries had been made, apparently Lajos worked in the mail room. He was conscientious, a good worker and had a perfect attendance record. He'd been with the insurance broker for seventeen months.

The HR manager said Lajos moved to San Diego from New York eighteen months ago.

Sarah addressed the group. "Okay, we have no record or hits on any database for a Lajos Rolko in the New York area going back two or more years ago. Looks to me like he assumed a new identity." Teams at Langley are still digging for information."

Chuck jumped in. "I've just checked in with Ft. Mead. Guess what?"

Casey grumbled. "I hate guessing games…."

Chuck gulped. "Okay, no guessing…..There is no registered cell phone to a Lajos Rolko. In this day and age that's really unusual."

Sarah nodded. "Unless you're only using burner phones."

Tom was excited as he relayed the last piece of news. "Okay, we have an address…Lajos supposedly lives with his wife, named Sophia, and another couple at 5498 Burford St. It's northwest from here about two miles as the crow flies."

Carina speculated that Lajos' wife...Sophia, was probably Azir Shir-Del. The other Iranian Agent they'd identified who was the link between the Cartel and the Iranians.

Chuck pulled in images from the drone and the satellite and split the big monitor on the wall into two. The team gathered in close to look at the house, the street and the surrounding terrain.

Casey spoke first.

"Shit, this is a good place for the Iranians, it's in a cul-de-sac ….look to the right, there's a big valley and parkland. It's all open terrain. Plus, the neighbours aren't too close…..they'll be able to see us coming. And they've had almost two years to prepare.

"We need to get someone in closer to reconnoiter the area, without making them suspicious. Maybe even pre-position the assault team."

Carina looked at the house. "How the hell does a mail clerk make enough money to live in that kind of up scale house…..it doesn't add up."

Casey told Tom and Chuck to get all the information they could on the people living in the seven houses either side of 5498 Burford St.

Casey, Carina and Sarah sat down at the kitchen table and started to talk about options to get into the house without triggering an epidemic that might infect eighty or ninety thousand people.

Major John Casey, every inch a Marine said what Carina and Sarah were thinking. "There are over fifty Navy ships based out of San Diego, there are twenty-four thousand sailors, marines and coast guard staff on that base, plus ten thousand civilians."

 **{o}**

It took Tom, Chuck and their counterparts at Ft. Mead and Langley an hour to dig up the information on who lived in the seven houses either side of 5498 Burford St.

Tom went through who owned and lived at each of the houses. In every case it would be tricky to move the family out. None of the houses were up for sale.

Tom left what he thought was the best possibility to the last. "A Mrs. Radford owns and lives at 5475 Burford. She's a widow. It's the house right next to the Iranian's house."

Casey started firing questions at Tom. "How old is she? When did she move in? Does she have a daughter or son?"

Chuck jumped in. "She's fifty-six years old. She moved in two months ago. She has no children.

Casey had one more question. "What do you know about her late husband?" Tom had the answer. "Her husband died of cancer a year ago…." Tom looked at his notes. "He was a Commander in the Coast Guard, he retired two years ago. They used to live in Seattle."

Casey looked over at Sarah and then at Chuck. They looked back at him and tried to guess what the look was all about. Casey stood up and started walking around the table.

"Okay, help me out. We need to get somebody in that house without moving her out. That would look too suspicious. What if Mrs. Radford had her son and daughter-in-law pay her a visit for say two weeks?"

Chuck looked skeptical. "Casey, she doesn't have any children and why would Mrs. Radford, all of a sudden, agree to help us?"

Casey actually smiled. "Because, once her husband's former commanding officer and I have a chat with her on the phone, she'll agree to a visit from her son and daughter-in-law. You and Walker will make a believable couple."

Tom suggested Casey didn't talk with Mrs. Radford on the phone. "You know the Iranians might've bugged the surrounding houses to make sure the people living in them are who they appear to be. We shouldn't underestimate their capabilities."

Carina had the bright idea to have Commander Radford's former commanding officer, Commodore Decker was his name, call her and invite her out for coffee at a local Starbucks.

Carina then turned to Casey. "Why not pick me for Chuck's blushing bride? I can do the suburban housewife to a tee." She gave Chuck a big loving gaze.

Casey didn't hesitate for a second. "Why? Because you're not in love with Bartowski…..Walker is….my God, they don't even have to act the part."

Sarah fought the blush rising up from her neck and decided to say nothing.

Chuck smiled at Sarah and mouthed the words…. _I told you everyone knows about us!_

 **Next Day -10:00am**

 **5475 San Diego, CA 10:00am- Residence of Mrs. Sandra Radford (Widow)**

It had been a very, very long night for Sarah, Chuck and the entire team. No one had slept.

The first order of business was for Casey to meet with Mrs. Radford away from her house.

Yesterday evening, Casey and Commodore Decker(who was flown down from Seattle) met with Sandra Radford for two hours at the local Starbucks. It was agreed that Mrs. Radford's son and daughter-in-law would come for a visit the next morning.

Sandra Radford smiled at the idea of having a fake son and daughter-in-law come to visit. She didn't know any of her neighbours that well …..so…..no one knew a lot about her life. She dearly wished in that moment that Frank, her husband, was still alive to help her through this...but he'd want her to help Major Casey.

Chuck and Tom, with help from the FBI, CIA and NSA, created a social media presence for Chuck and Sarah Radford. It took the combined resources of all three agencies and an 'all nighter' to prepare background legends, birth certificates, drivers' licences, graduation diplomas, passports and furnish a condominium in Seattle where Chuck and Sarah Radford lived.

Hundreds and hundreds of people hours were needed to get the work done in time.

A legend for Chuck and Sarah Radford was now in place. Tom believed that when the Iranians caught sight of the young couple, they would quietly investigate… who the hell Chuck and Sarah Radford were.

Tom had zero doubts that the Iranians would be suspicious of new people on their street. Especially if they were in possession of bioweapons, they'd be hypersensitive and on high alert.

Tom hoped that the Iranians' online inquiries would detect an average couple who lived in Seattle.

An actual condominium had been quickly procured in the name of Chuck and Sarah Radford. Just in case the Iranians dug a little deeper into their background.

The last thing the federal agencies did was to scrub images and records of Chuck Bartowski and Sarah Walker from all known databases.

As of 7:30 this morning, Chuck Bartowski and Sarah Walker no longer existed, at least in the digital world.

Carina and Sarah had gone out shopping around two o'clock in the morning to purchase all the things a young married couple would need when visiting their parents for two weeks.

Sarah and Carina had access to five different stores that were opened especially for them. Bleary eyed managers had been woken up and driven by FBI agents to their stores to let a statuesque blonde and the beautiful red head wander around their shop.

Carina's one comment during the shopping expedition had been, "Now you get to dress Chuck the way you want him to look. Just like your own personal 'Ken' doll." Sarah snapped out. "I never had a 'Ken' doll. Did you?"

Carina laughed, "No, but ask me about men named Ken." Sarah looked at Carina. "What if I ask you about a man named Esteban?" Carina didn't answer and walked away from her.

Casey got the NSA to provide them with a minivan, which he loaded with surveillance equipment and another small armory. Mrs. Radford confirmed there was room in her garage for the minivan.

The unknowns of the situation were; Where was the Chimera? Was it in the house or somewhere else? How were they planning to deploy the virus?

Sarah and Chuck took their suitcases from their minivan and walked up to the front door. Before they got there, Sandra Radford rushed down the stone pathway and warmly hugged Chuck and then Sarah. Chuck's one thought was, _she's a damn good actor_.

Once they disappeared into the house. Sandra Radford dropped the act and looked nervous. "Was that okay, was I believable?" Sarah smiled at her. "You were great, Mrs. Sandford."

Sarah was wearing a green sundress. Chuck was wearing a denim shirt, jeans and sneakers, that she'd picked out for him.

The two articles that felt strange to both of them were the wedding rings and Sarah's engagement ring.

Sandra Radford looked at them. "Are the two of you really married ….or…. I mean…" Chuck didn't know what to say and looked at Sarah for help.

"Mrs. Radford, in real life Chuck and I live together…..back in Washington….so, yes, we're a real couple." Chuck beamed at Sarah and was rewarded with a smile.

Sandra looked at the interchange between Chuck and Sarah, and relaxed, yes they were a real couple. "Well, I guess you both need to call me mom…..for the neighbours….. from here on in…..not Mrs. Radford. Your room is up the stairs and to the left."

She showed them the spare room. "I put fresh sheets on the bed this morning. It overlooks where….what did Major Casey call them…..oh yes….the persons of interest are living."

 **{o}**

 **Eight Hours Later-6pm**

Chuck and Sarah had worked nonstop once they were inside Mrs. Radford's house.

Sarah had quickly moved the minivan into the garage.

They'd emptied the van. Chuck hauled all the surveillance equipment, monitors and several laptops up to their bedroom. Sarah had taken care of all the weapons. She re-checked them all and made sure they were ready.

She knew Casey had already checked them but her training and experience told her to do it again. When she finished she went upstairs and helped Chuck drill several tiny holes in the bedroom wall and downstairs to position micro cameras, that looked across the lane towards the Iranians' house.

Everything was now up and running. The sun had set an hour ago.

Their bedroom was dark. They'd turned off all the lights and were dressed in black clothes. Sarah and Chuck were sitting in two chairs side by side but away from the window. They were sipping coffee and eating sandwiches that Sandra had made for them.

Chuck now had views from the satellite, the predator drone (which was now armed) and five micro cameras that they'd set up. The images were shown on five low light monitors arrayed around them.

Everything Chuck saw was also being shared with Tom, Casey, the NSA and the CIA.

For now everything was relatively peaceful.

There were three people in the other house, moving around in and out of the garage.

The curtains were pulled and the garage door was closed, so all they could see were blurry infrared images moving around, their images captured by the satellite.

They were still waiting for Kazem Veisi, AKA Lajos Rolko, to come home from his job at the insurance broker.

The FBI surveillance team had radioed that Kazem had just gotten off the number 120 bus and had transferred to the number 40 bus. He'd be home in thirty minutes.

Chuck was aware that the next few hours, the next few days might be his last. If they made a mistake, if the Iranians were successful in carrying out their mission. There were things he wanted to say, things he wanted to do.

Chuck turned to Sarah. "So, we're living together now…and we really are a real couple?" Sarah gave him a gentle kick. "Stop teasing me, we're living together…right?" Chuck smiled at her and touched her arm.

He wasn't finished. "So, ….after this is mission is over…I mean how do we make…..us work? Supposing and hoping we don't both get an Ebola or Bubonic plague virus."

Sarah turned her eyes away from the monitors. "Chuck, I'm new to this relationship thing…you know, making such a huge commitment to another person. Believe me it was never like this with Bryce."

They both lapsed into silence and checked the monitors. Chuck was very quiet and pensive.

After several minutes he nudged her foot with his foot. "What I was really trying to ask you…..and I know I'm saying it badly …was….would you be open to taking things to the next level."

Sarah sucked in her breath. "What level is that?"

Chuck held up his left hand up and wiggled his ring finger. "You know, the level where people wear rings."

Sarah's tone was sharp. "What….hold on a second….. in the middle of a dark room where I can barely see your face…are you asking me…."

Even in the dark, Chuck felt the intensity of Sarah's gaze. He nudged his iPhone off the table and got down on one knee to pick it up….but instead of picking it up…he reached over and grabbed Sarah's left hand.

He gently removed her cover wedding ring and the engagement ring. He then took the engagement ring and held it up, so she could see the light from one of the monitors sparkle off of it.

"Sarah, I don't want to ever go back to before ….when I wasn't with you…being without you?"

"Chuck, this is not the best time for this…we're in the middle of a mission….I…"

He asked her to bend down so he could whisper in her ear over. "Sarah, I love you…I know you love me….please, say yes….the rest is just details…"

Sarah dropped to her knees and grabbed his face with both her hands. She kissed him long and hard. "Yes, why the hell not…I don't think I'm a really good girlfriend…..maybe, if you're lucky, I'll be a better fiancé."

Chuck gave her a huge hug. "All we need is some music…next time we do this, I'll prepare a mix of songs…."

Sarah was smiling when she gave him a gentle elbow in the gut. "Chuck, shut up, get back in your seat….and focus on the mission."

There was a long silence as both of them reflected on what they'd just done. Sarah leaned over and whispered, "Chuck, you so owe me a really romantic evening once this mission is over."

 **{o}**

 **Later**

 **January 7** **th** **, 2008**

 **5475 Burford St. San Diego, CA 3:30am**

Chuck gently shook Sarah's shoulder. "Sarah…Sarah…it's your shift."

Sarah rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She was lying fully clothed on the bed. In three seconds she was fully awake. Chuck gave her an update on what had happened over the last three hours.

"Two of them were in the garage until 1:45am, then they went to bed...at least I think they're sleeping. I only have three infrared images…..so one of them is in the house…maybe in a protected area."

All of a sudden, Tom's voice was in their earbud, he'd also been keeping watch from their safe house back on Cliff St., two miles away.

"I've consulted with Langley. Bad news. It looks like the Iranians have been changing things in the house. We think they've added walls and other materials that block infrared from getting through. Hell, they may even have constructed a safe room. Maybe their checking out who Chuck and Sarah Radford are."

Casey was also up, they now heard his voice. "Walker, we need to figure out how to see what the hell they're doing in that garage. Maybe you and I can get closer….maybe drill some holes into the garage wall and take a peek."

Chuck's eyes widened with surprise. His tongue raced ahead of his brain. "Are you both crazy, we don't have enough information….they could have motion sensors, cameras…hell, they could've planted IEDs on the approaches…they've had almost two years in that house…to prepare for almost anything."

Sarah put her hand on his arm to silence him. "Casey, give me ten minutes …I'll get back to you."

She signalled Chuck to pull the earbud out of his ear. She did the same.

"Okay, we need to talk…"

She gathered her thoughts. "Chuck, we're running out of time…my gut tells me they're ready to carry out their mission…we'll need to take some risks…"

Chuck felt his worry and anxiety surface. "We just got engaged less than eight hours ago…and you want to go out there and get yourself killed…?" He was now angry.

Sarah's temper flared. "How the hell do you think I've kept myself alive…over the years….of course I don't want to get myself killed…I can defeat motion sensors ….and they won't risk setting off an IED….they'd expose themselves…..and fail in their mission. "

Chuck stood up. "Okay, but what about trip wires….what if they have a drone up there feeding them images….you wouldn't get ten feet … Then they might just release the pathogens…please..give Tom and me some more time…"

Chuck stopped himself as an idea popped into his head. "Listen, I've got some tiny drones here. One is the size of a dragon fly. Casey knows how to make it land on a one inch ledge…light as a feather….then we'll get some good intel….please wait."

Sarah was lost in thought, Chuck might be right…mistakes might translate into thousands of deaths.

She stood up beside Chuck and put her earbud back in her ear. "Casey, get over here….. I suggest you use the park to get here. The back door will be open…approach from the southwest. You have a dragon fly mission to fly."

 **{o}**

 **One Hour Later-4:30am**

Sarah was positioned at the back door. She was cradling an MP5 with a suppressor and was wearing night vision googles. She had only been expecting Casey, but instead seven people showed up. Sarah saw the way they moved …there was no doubt in her mind….they were Special Forces….faces camouflaged…ready for action.

Sarah released the safety on her weapon…..the team stopped and one person slowly advanced….Casey stopped and gave Sarah a wave. Sarah took a relieved breath and put the safety back on the MP5 and quietly opened the back door.

Seven people quickly and silently slipped into the kitchen through the back door. The seventh person to come in was Carina.

Sarah gave Casey a questioning look. "Walker, the powers that be want the strike team pre-positioned."

He quickly did the introductions. The four man team from USAMIID was led by Commander Finny, who was on detached duty, from Seal team six. The surprise visitor….was Colonel Cassandra Fremes, all the way from Ft. Detrick.

Sarah blurted out. "I thought you said this was a wild goose chase?" The colonel smiled …."Changed my mind….if your Chuck is correct, then this is the place I need to be." Sarah sighed, even the Colonel knew they were a couple.

 **A/N2** \- Note of thanks to James Mowery for pointing out that USAMIID has their own special force unit.

 **A/N3** \- Right, next chapter will be a closer and an epilogue rolled into one, then 'tis done'.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N** -We've arrived at the penultimate offering in this saga. An epilogue will follow. Thanks to all who reviewed and PM'd me along the way. Thanks to all those who read and were silent, but continued to follow the story. I must offer heartfelt thanks to michaelfmx. A great editor and a great sounding board. Along this journey Zettel, WvonB offered support and encouragement. Thanks to Marc Vun Kannon who answered my canon questions. To you all merci.

Thanks to Rachel Smith Cobleigh who graciously responded when I reached out and asked for some ideas about the hacking attack Chuck launched in this chapter. I've curtailed some of the technical portions she shared with me…..therefore any mistakes that remain… are mine alone.

 **Trivia** - ** _A zero-day attack_** exploits a previously unknown security vulnerability in software. The vulnerability existed from the first day the software was released, it's just never been noticed by anyone.

 _"_ _Her heart knew it was ready for love._

 _A love so powerful it could tear down walls._

 _All the walls she built against it, when she wasn't ready."_

- **jflintwarrior**

 ** _From Chapter 18_**

 ** _January 7_** ** _th_** ** _, 2008-4:30am_**

 **5475 Burford St. San Diego, CA**

 _Sarah was positioned at the back door. She was cradling an MP5 with a suppressor and was wearing night vision googles. She had only been expecting Casey, but instead seven people showed up. Sarah saw the way they moved …there was no doubt in her mind….they were Special Forces….faces camouflaged…ready for action._

 _Sarah released the safety on her weapon…..the team stopped and one person slowly advanced….Casey stopped and gave Sarah a wave. Sarah took a relieved breath and put the safety back on the MP5 and quietly opened the back door._

 _Seven people quickly and silently slipped into the kitchen through the back door. The seventh person to come in was Carina._

 _Sarah gave Casey a questioning look. "Walker, the powers that be want the strike team pre-positioned."_

 _He quickly did the introductions. The four man team from USAMRIID was led by Commander Finny, who was on detached duty, from Seal team six. The surprise visitor….was Colonel Cassandra Fremes, all the way from Ft. Detrick._

 _Sarah blurted out. "I thought you said this was a wild goose chase?" The colonel smiled …."Changed my mind….if your Chuck is correct, then this is the place I need to be."_

 _Sarah sighed, even the Colonel knew they were a couple._

 **Chapter 19**

 **January 7** **th** **, 2008-6:00am**

 **5475 Burford St. San Diego, CA**

Mrs. Radford slept soundly in her bed upstairs, blissfully unaware of the new people who'd invited themselves over to her house.

The seven new people inside the three bedroom house quickly sorted themselves out. Commander Finny posted his team in the garage to sort out and recheck their equipment, making sure their special assault suits were ready.

The suits had been designed at Ft. Detrick for an assault on a bioweapons environment.

Each suit sealed the occupant in a protective, positive pressure, airtight cocoon. The suit carried its own oxygen supply. The idea was simple, keep the virus out. Any cut or breach in the suit meant the occupant would be exposed.

Depending on what the Iranians had brewed up….there might not be an antidote.

Finny joined Chuck upstairs so he could get the latest Intel on 5948 Burford St.

He was eager to see the Iranian's safe house up close. His gut was telling him that today, or at the latest tomorrow, his team would attack and breach the Iranians' safe house.

As he entered the darkened room, he let out a huge sigh. Shit, all he needed to do now was figure out a way to carry out his mission without killing his entire team and eighty or ninety thousand innocent citizens of San Diego in the process.

 **{o}**

Colonel Cassandra Fremes, Sarah, Carina and Casey were sitting around the kitchen table drinking coffee and trying to figure out a way to find out what was in the Iranians' garage. They, like Commander Finny, were also throwing around ideas about how to get inside the house, and neutralize the possible threat while staying alive.

Casey looked over at Sarah. "The sun will be up in fifty-two minutes. That's when I'll pilot the micro drone (looks like a dragon fly) over to their house and see what's what."

Cassandra mentioned a piece of equipment she'd brought in her back pack. "I've got a 'sniffer' device with me that can identify over eighty different pathogens that we've catalogued over the last twenty years. Unfortunately, I need to be inside the house to use it."

She paused for a moment. Then she got everyone's attention. "You know, they may have built their own makeshift bio lab…. over there….in their safe house. God knows they've had enough time to do that….Major Casey, when you're piloting your dragon fly…..look for a new stainless steel exhaust pipe or duct."

Sarah and Carina exchanged a glance. "Colonel, if we attack and they release the virus….how bad would that be?" Cassandra shrugged her shoulders. "Hard to say…if it was limited to the house…we could contain it and then kill it with bleach or extreme heat. It also depends on how they weaponized the virus….."

Carina looked at the Colonel and speculated. "Based on zero experience in this area but watching plenty of Hollywood movies. Would they try to add it the water supply? Would they try to spray it from a plane or launch small rockets?"

Cassandra stood up and slowly stretched. "Yes to all those possible scenarios….we need to see what's in the garage…assuming they don't have the Chimera hidden somewhere else."

 **{o}**

Chuck went over the latest Intel with Commander Finny. They looked at 5948 Burford St. It looked like all the other houses on the street. A suburban home nicely situated near a wilderness park, with plenty of jogging and walking trails.

Neither of them was fooled by the placid image of the house.

Commander Finny looked at Chuck. "I looked, and behold, an ashen horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death; and Hades was following with him."

Chuck's eyes widened. "Revelation chapter…..five…no…chapter six." He then wiped the tiredness from his eyes. "I really need to get into their computer systems to give you and your men a fighting chance."

Finny smiled at him. "So, you're the computer geek we were briefed on?" Chuck smiled back. "Nerd, I prefer the term nerd….and yes I'm that guy."

 **{o}**

 **Sunrise - 6:52 am**

Casey was sitting down at the kitchen table, manipulating the two joy sticks that controlled the flight of the dragonfly.

Arrayed around him were Colonel Fremes, Sarah, Carina, Chuck and Commander Finny. Chuck was impressed that Casey had such a feather light touch with the controls.

He had large calloused hands and yet they moved with a delicate touch worthy of a virtuoso concert pianist.

Chuck had the images transmitting from the drone routed to a large monitor he'd set up on the kitchen counter.

The sunlight reflected off the tiny micro drone as it quickly covered the eighty yards between the two houses.

If a person on the street was watching it and was an expert on dragonflies, then they would've identified the pale blue wings and thorax, along with the buff colored head and eyes as a Libellulidae Depressa. A common variety of dragonfly.

Chuck was fervently hoping that none of the Iranians in the house were entomologists.

Casey had the dragonfly drone slowly circle around the house. The golden rays of the morning sun reflected off the newish stainless steel vent at the back of the house, which faced north.

Cassandra Fremes reacted. "Shit, shit…shit. The bastards have set up a bio lab…..see on top of the exhaust vent…that's a HEPA filter container. No one in the room was happy with that piece of information.

Casey then directed the micro drone to the garage and slowly maneuvered it to four small slit windows situated high up on the eastern wall, near the start of the roof. There was a tiny strip of molding an inch wide at the bottom of the windows.

If the Iranians were looking they'd have seen a dragonfly land on the ledge, apparently soaking up the rays of the rising sun.

Casey moved his head from side to side to deal with some kinks in his neck. "Okay, now we wait until the sun's a little higher and maybe we can catch a glimpse of what they have inside."

Five minutes later, the team got their first peek inside the garage via the NSA dragonfly.

At first the shapes and shadows were all a muddle of black and gray. The muddle of gray fell away and the team had their first good look into the garage. It was Sarah who spoke first. "Are those drones…." She pointed at the screen and counted four of them.

Chuck searched his memory. "Okay, these drones have been carefully designed and manufactured. It looks to me like they're a knock off of our RQ-2Pioneer drone. But it looks about half the size."

Casey grunted. "The RQs are no longer in service."

Chuck pointed at the drone. It was painted a charcoal gray color. The wingspan was eight feet.

"I bet these things can just get off the ground with those containers."

Casey swore and Cassandra spoke next. "Major, can you zoom in on that drone there?"

As he did so, everyone saw the two cylindrical containers welded onto the side of each one of the drones. Chuck estimated the length and size of each container. "Ahhh, this is a guess …but it looks like each container can hold about two and half gallons."

Cassandra nodded her head. "Okay, so I think we know how they're going to release the pathogen. They have four drones, that means eight tanks full of the virus or twenty gallons (75.6 liters) of liquid death."

Carina got the Colonel's attention. "What time of day are they likely to start spraying the virus." Cassandra addressed the group. "If it was me…I'd do it at night after the sun has gone down…..during the evening rush hour. Direct sunlight can often kill the virus…..that's my guess."

As they were watching, an Iranian came into the garage through a side entrance. The entrance from the house into the garage had several protective plastic screens. The person was wearing what looked like a protective airtight suit. The person moved slowly amongst the drones and checked each of the containers using what looked like a Geiger counter device.

Casey pointed at it and turned to the Colonel. "That looks like your sniffer device….what are they doing?"

Cassandra gave the group a grim smile. "They're checking to make sure the containers aren't leaking."

At that moment, Chuck got a text from Tom Corrigan.

 _Chuck, we've been monitoring the insurance broker, in downtown San Diego, where Kazem works (aka Lajos Rolko)._

 _We're into all of the Insurance broker's computer systems and their telephone system. Lajos Rolko called his supervisor five minutes ago, from what looks like a burner phone, and left a voice mail message. He said he was sick and wouldn't be in to work today, this guy hasn't missed a single day of work over the last seventeen months. I'm concerned…..is something about to happen?_

Chuck cleared his throat and got everyone's attention. He shared the text he'd received from Tom.

Sarah stated the obvious. "They're going to launch their attack today or tomorrow."

She looked over at Cassandra. "If you're correct Colonel, then they'll launch the drones tonight….just after sunset."

Casey contacted General Beckman. Within five minutes, Diane Beckman sorted out that if the garage door opened and the Iranians started moving the drones….Major John Casey would have sole authority to order the launch of the two Hellfire missiles carried by the circling Predator.

That option, to launch the Hellfire missiles, was a last ditch option and laden with danger.

Chuck put his hand on Casey's shoulder. "Casey, I need a special piece of equipment…I saw it at Ft. Mead when you were training me. I need the NNEMP….we both saw it in the research section you took me to."

Casey's eyes lightened with pleasure. He knew what Chuck was asking for. "I can get it here in six ..maybe seven hours….but tell me Bartowski …how do you plan to get it into this house?"

Chuck was lost in thought, he looked up and smiled.

"….have it delivered inside a new fridge….that will work….Mrs. Radford needs a new fridge."

At that moment Mrs. Radford came into the kitchen.

Sandra Radford was an early riser and was dressed for the day. She was longing to have her morning cup of coffee.

She stopped inside the kitchen entrance and noticed that there were three people she didn't know and Major Casey who she met yesterday.

She looked at Sarah and turned to Chuck with a smile starting to form at the corners of her mouth.

"Well, son…maybe you can introduce your 'cover' mother to your friends and tell me why I need a new fridge?"

Chuck started to blush. Sarah walked over grabbed his hand and stood beside him.

Sandra Radford walked over to the coffee maker and got it ready to make another pot.

She then turned to Major Casey.

Casey stood up and looked sheepishly at Sandra Radford. "Ma'am there's nothing for you to worry about….we're continuing to monitor…..ahh….the persons of interest I told you about."

Sandra Radford had been around military people most of her adult life.

"Major, since you've invited yourself into my home and into my life…..….I think you need to tell me a little bit more about what's going on here? And who these 'persons of interest'….,my supposed neighbours, who are they really? Ohh, one more thing…. who the hell is going to pay for this new fridge I'm getting."

 **{o}**

 **Four Hours Later - 10:52am**

In the intervening hours, the team had been busy.

Casey, Sarah, Carina, Colonel Fremes and Commander Finny had been on a long video conference with the National Security Council, who were holding their meeting in the situation room underneath the White House.

The President's image now filled the screen as he summarized the last hour's conversation.

"Alright, so as I understand it….the team on site in San Diego believes the terrorists will release the pathogen just after sunset tonight …. We therefore have three options before us.

"We can obliterate 5498 Burford St. and that will kill all the terrorists …..hopefully with limited collateral damage. However, that entirely depends on the type of pathogen the Iranians have in their possession."

He stopped and looked over at Admiral Spruance for confirmation. "The Navy is telling me a cold front is moving in, bringing high winds from the North West. The winds could easily spread the remnants of the pathogen across a large section of San Diego."

He looked to his right at General Beckman and at Mac Showers. "Another option is to storm the house. We've gone over the joint NSA, CIA and ARMY team's plan to breach and contain the pathogen. Colonel Fremes, Commander Finny and Major Casey are in favor of this option.

"They will try to capture at least one of the terrorists and confirm that they haven't hidden some of the pathogen in other locations."

The President looked tired and there were dark bags under his eyes. He looked over at the Secretary of State.

"The final option is to contact the Iranian Government…. tell them we have their agents surrounded. Tell them to contact their agents. Get them to stand down and surrender…..otherwise we'll consider this an act of war.

"The danger with this option is plausible deniability. The Iranians can tell us this is a rogue element and that we should deal with the matter as we see fit. The big question before us is… will we really go to war with Iran."

He paused and looked down each side of the table at all the experts and the key cabinet members arrayed in front of him. Everyone sitting there was aware of the responsibility now resting on one person's shoulders.

The President made his decision.

"We'll go with the second option. If possible…" He looked up at the screen and Major Casey. "Major Casey.. …capture one of the terrorists, contain the pathogen and may God be with us all."

 **{o}**

Chuck was upstairs, perfecting his most important hack ever. He'd had five hours sleep in the last two days. He was now on his third Red Bull and he could feel his heart reacting to the caffeine. It was hammering in his chest.

The team needed to see inside the Iranians' computers before sunset tonight.

Undoubtedly the agents over in that house had already taken precautions not to be hacked. The Iranians were becoming very good in the cyberwar department.

Chuck shoulders sagged, they might've even have 'air gapped' their laptops and desk tops.

Chuck had consulted with the CIA and the NSA on his plan. Their experts had refined his ideas…time to launch the hack.

Earlier, the Piranha had reached out on the dark web to his elite fellow hackers.

He indicated he was looking for a programming hole in a very well-known product. Adobe was renowned in the hacking community for developing a seemingly impenetrable infrastructure around their PDF product.

The majority of people felt a PDF attachment was a safe bet to click on.

As it turned out…it was Orion who possessed what Chuck needed.

There was a security weakness in the PDF product. It had been there since day one when it was first released. Orion had spotted it many years ago and filed that knowledge away for future use.

During the ten minutes he was in contact with Orion on the dark web, they reached an agreement. Orion had almost given his knowledge away for nothing. Chuck sometimes wondered if Orion treated him differently from the other hackers…..almost like he was some sort of mentor."

Chuck pressed the enter key on his computer.

He sent an email from Kazem's (aka Lajos) employer, the insurance broker, to all employees.

The NSA was in total control of the insurance broker's computers, databases and telephone systems. The NSA cyber team had quickly discovered a piece of malware hidden in the insurance broker's systems. It could open a back door.

The person suspected of planting the malware inside their system was Kazem, the quiet, efficient and seemingly harmless mail clerk.

Chuck sent the email to all seventy-five employees. The email had a simple PDF attachment that indicated each employee's bonus.

The email from the employer stated that 2008 had been a very profitable year and that each person would be receiving a bonus as a thank you.

Chuck was hoping that human nature would win out. The money was, of course, inconsequential to Kazem, but he might just want to know what his bonus was.

He didn't underestimate Kazem's training or intelligence. The four people next door were highly trained and obviously dedicated agents. They would not take any risks and most likely would not click on any email attachments.

Kazem would probably delete the email.

Chuck was counting on the fact that Kazem had planted the malware in his employer's systems and that he had unfettered access to the computer systems.

Sitting in the employer's computer system was a PDF file, clearly labelled '2008 Bonus List'. It listed everyone's bonus, including Kazem's.

Unknown to the person who tried to grab the PDF file was that special code had been placed there by Chuck.

The code would silently install a tiny piece of malware into Kazem's computer. It would bypass the normal Windows network security. It would then open an outgoing socket to send Chuck the admin remote login credentials for Kazem's computer.

 **{o}**

 **One Hour Later - 11:52am**

A new fridge was delivered to Mrs. Radford by the Aztec Appliance Outlet.

The four, very fit, young delivery men in buff uniforms took the fridge off the back of the truck. They were clean cut, well built and moved the fridge into her house through the front door.

Ten minutes later the four young men came out with the old fridge and loaded it onto their truck and promptly left.

 **{o}**

The Iranians closely watched the delivery from cameras they'd set up on the outside of their house and on the street.

Five minutes later the Aztec Appliance Outlet Store received a phone call from a lady calling herself Mrs. Sandra Radford and gave her address, 5475 Burford St. The woman couldn't remember whether she'd taken out the five or ten year warranty on her new fridge.

The salesperson at Aztec Appliances looked up the information on the computer and told the caller she'd taken out the five year warranty.

Azar Shir-Del ended the phone call. She turned to the others and, in Farsi, told them that there was nothing to be concerned about, it was just a normal delivery.

 **{o}**

Inside the fridge was Chuck's special piece of equipment and, also Tom Corrigan.

He was scrunched up into the fetal position. Casey helped Tom out of the fridge. "Bartowski wants you to help me and Carina coordinate communications for the assault team. He also wants you to monitor the feed from the satellites and the Predator."

 **{o}**

Sarah silently came up the carpeted stairs.

Chuck was staring at the monitor, mumbling to himself.

She made a quiet noise to let him know she was behind him. Chuck felt her slip her arms around his neck. She lent in and kissed him on the neck. "So, how are you holding up…" Chuck shivered with the kiss and sighed.

He was frustrated and it crept into his tone. "I'm not sure that Kazem is going to take the bait….damn it!…What's wrong with this guy…..How can he not want to know what his bonus is…..it's been almost an hour. I'm monitoring the insurance broker's system…..not even a nibble."

Sarah rested her head on his shoulder.

"Well, cheer up… your special piece of equipment has arrived. Casey and Commander Finny took it out of the hollow fridge. He calibrated it with the NSA techies at Ft. Mead.

"They say it's ready to go…..You do know what you're doing with it…right?"

Chuck turned his head slightly. "Well, I've seen the training video….the problem is we only get to use it once….so timing is critical."

Just then Chuck's computer pinged.

He jerked around in his seat and smiled. "Someone has just come through the back door of the insurance broker's system….they're looking for something." Sarah leaned in very close to Chuck, so she could see the monitor. Her cheek was rubbing against his.

Chuck was torn between two sensations. The exquisite touch of Sarah's skin on his cheek and the excitement that Kazem might actually be taking the bait. Sarah's scent was intoxicating, but he needed to concentrate.

"Chuck, how will you know if Kazem took the bait?" As she spoke, her breath tickled his ear, making it hard to focus on his response.

"Look down here at the bottom of my monitor…..that's my command line interface…if it goes active, then I'll have admin status into whatever computer Kazem is using. If the Iranians networked there computers over in the safe house….I'll have access to them all…then I can rock and roll."

The seconds seemed like minutes as they waited. Forty-five seconds later, the command line interface at the bottom of Chuck's monitor went active. Chuck was now inside the Iranian's computer network.

 **{o}**

 **Three Hours Later - 1:52pm**

The sun would set in three hours and eight minutes, time was running short for the team and possibly for the good citizens of San Diego.

Mrs. Sandra Radford was upstairs in her bedroom getting ready to leave the house. The plan was for her to take her car and drive out to the mall. She would be met by agents and taken out of harm's way.

Sarah and Chuck would walk out to the driveway with her. They would ask her to pick up some steaks for tonight. All part of the kabuki play they'd designed for the Iranians' benefit.

Chuck came racing down the stairs and ran over to the big monitor sitting on the kitchen counter. He shouted for all of them to gather around his console. He sat down quickly while they formed a semi-circle around him.

"Okay, I cracked through their passwords and encryption twenty minutes ago." His fingers flew across the keyboard and files started popping up on the big monitor. Some of the files were in Farsi and a few were in English.

Commander Finny had been chosen to lead his team because he read and spoke Farsi. He pointed at one of the files. "That one…..there…..there on the left….open that one."

The file was opened and there, on the second page, was a complex chemical formula. Chuck gave up trying to pronounce the name.

Cassandra studied it for two whole minutes and shook her head. "Shit, I'm not sure how the Iranians did it….they've developed what looks like a stealth virus. So now we know…. their plan is to infect as many people in San Diego as possible…...including Navy personnel, Marines and anyone else on the base."

Carina asked the obvious question. "So, this won't kill anyone….I mean right now?"

Cassandra nodded. "No, the infected people will be oblivious. They'll carry on in their daily lives as if nothing is wrong. The problem is we don't know how the virus is triggered. How will the Iranians trigger it from being dormant to being active?"

Casey grunted. "Obviously the long term plan here is to blackmail the US…. sometime in the future….when it suits their purposes."

Everyone in the room knew that Israel was on a hair trigger to launch an all-out attack on Iran's nuclear facilities. The US was using their influence to hold them back.

The President had flatly refused to give the Prime Minister of Israel the 'bunker buster' bombs for fear he'd use them on Iran.

Chuck kept opening files and passing them down the line to the NSA and CIA for in-depth analysis.

An hour later, the National Security Council confirmed that the team had a green light to launch their attack.

 **{o}**

 **4:45pm- Fifteen Minutes to Sunset**

Chuck was dressed in black and waiting in the garage.

Ten minutes earlier Sarah had joined him before she had to suit up.

She gently applied camouflage paint to his face. When she finished she fastened on his bullet proof vest and stood close to him. They just looked at each other for several seconds.

She moved closer and put her hand on his heart. "Chuck, do not go into that house, under any circumstances….do what you have to do with that crazy machine of yours and get back under cover."

Chuck kissed her, then spoke. "Sarah, you're the one in real danger…if you get even one tiny tear in that protective suit…" He didn't finish stating the obvious.

Sarah could see what Chuck was leaving unsaid in the depth of his eyes, making it hard for her to look away.

She wished they had a few more minutes to just hold each other, but time was a luxury they didn't have right now.

Right on cue, Casey's voice filled their earbuds….."Walker get suited up."

The assault team was finally all suited up and ready to go.

Eight people were busy checking each other's suit to make sure they were airtight. The black suits had a matte like finish that absorbed rather than reflected any ambient light.

They'd checked and rechecked their weapons and gone over the assault plan three times.

The predicted cold front had finally arrived. Brisk winds from the North West were blowing through the city at twenty miles an hour.

When the sun set, half the team would slip out the kitchen door that faced the valley, making a large looping circle they'd position themselves around the back of the Iranian's house. The other half of the team would wait until they were in position and then attack from the front.

Chuck had already handed over monitoring the satellite and communications to Tom Corrigan.

He had what he hoped was their ace in the hole. His special NSA machine. It weighed ninety-five pounds and it was strapped onto the dolly. At the front of the rectangular machine was a convex shaped dish.

It was critical that the dish was pointed at the Iranians' garage.

Everything was ready for him to wheel it out of the garage and position it at the end of the Iranians' driveway facing their garage.

 **5:15pm- Fifteen Minutes After Sunset**

Casey, Sarah, Carina and Colonel Fremes were ready to begin. Commander Finny had clicked three times to say his team was now in position.

Casey picked up the encrypted Motorola walkie talkie and said, "Commence Prometheus."

Located four hundred yards away from the Iranian's house, and across the wilderness parkland, was another set of houses on Tanner Avenue.

A fire started to flame in a shed located in the backyard of one of the houses. The shed was quickly engulfed in flames. Three minutes later, the sound of sirens and fire engines could be seen and heard four hundred yards away.

The San Diego fire department moved in quickly to contain the fire and stop it from spreading.

The Iranians gravitated to the back of the house to view the commotion.

Casey then issued another command. "Commence Prowler."

A Marine Corps EA-6B Prowler that had advanced jamming capabilities had just come on station at one thousand feet overhead and started circling. It would jam all communications in a half mile circle. Hopefully that would stop the Iranians from triggering any IED's guarding the approach to their house and kill their cell phones.

The garage door at Sandra Radford's house opened. The light inside the garage had been disconnected.

Casey, Sarah, Carina and the Colonel sprinted as fast as they could towards the front door of the Iranians' house. At the same time, Commander Finny's team assaulted the back of the house.

The Iranians reacted quickly. Gunfire increased in intensity.

Casey blew the front door open with a shaped charge. Carina and Sarah threw in stun grenades. The four of them disappeared into the swirling smoke.

Chuck pushed the dolly, loaded with the NNEMP, across the road and towards the end of the Iranian's driveway. He was worried he was still too far away and went half way up the driveway.

He bent down and started pushing switches and buttons as per the manual.

The garage door to the Iranian's house started to open. There was one dull light on inside the garage. Chuck could see Azar Shir-Del standing in the dim light of the garage. She hadn't noticed Chuck parked with his dolly halfway up the driveway.

Azar grabbed each of the drone controllers and started the engines. He realized at once that the drone engines were very quiet….the Iranians were using electric motors.

Chuck was impressed that the Iranians had adapted the drone controllers to resist military jamming.

Azar was determined to launch the drones…..she was going to complete her mission.

Chuck pressed a button and the NNEMP started to whine as it built up its charge.

Azar turned towards the high pitched whining sound. She finally noticed Chuck.

She quickly bent down and picked up something.

Chuck didn't have time to react. Azar in one fluid motion levelled the MP5, aimed at him and fired.

Three shots slammed into his bullet proof vest. The shots knocked him down.

It felt like a mule had kicked him in the chest. He was having trouble breathing…..and almost blacked out a couple of times, his left side hurt like hell.

Azar put the gun down and positioned one of the drones out onto the driveway in order to launch it.

Chuck was finally able to catch a breath. He weakly got to his knees. He painfully shuffled on his knees towards the dolly.

He remembered to shout into his earbud and to warn the team. "Pull out your earbuds".

Then he pressed the red button on the NNEMP.

The NNEMP (non-nuclear electromagnetic pulse) machine went off. The pulse was only effective in a hundred foot area. But everything electronic within that hundred foot circle would be totally 'fried' and would cease to operate.

The electronic circuits instantly became useless junk. The cars on the driveway wouldn't be going anywhere except to the junkyard.

The lights in the garage blinked out and the drones stopped working.

Azar controlled her fury at what had just happened.

She picked up the MP5 and advanced on Chuck. She would deal with the tall American and then go back into the house to help her friends and comrades, in what was now a hopeless cause.

She took five steps, stopped and aimed the MP5. This time at Chuck's head. Chuck took what he believed would be his last breath…..it hurt like hell to take that final breath.

Azar suddenly dropped to the ground. It was like someone cutting a puppet's strings, she simply sagged and crumbled to the ground. Chuck was a little woozy. He saw a knight clad in black emerging from the darkness. The knight ran up to Chuck and checked him out and then ran back into the garage. Back to the battle.

Chuck tried to stand up…..and then blacked out.

 **{o}**

 **Twelve Hours Later, 6am- January 10, 2008**

 **Marine Corps Air Station Miramar- Secluded Portion of the Base**

 _Chuck was climbing out of a small cramped tunnel. He could see a light at the entrance_ , _but it was hard work just to put one hand in front of the other. He felt tired from his efforts to drag himself to the entrance….but he needed to get to the light._

Chuck blinked several times. The light he now saw was part of a lattice like ceiling made up of white tiles. He gradually became aware of his surroundings. He was in a bed.

He moved his hands and then his legs. He wiggled his toes.

He was shocked when someone said his name.

"Good, you're awake Chuckie. Blondie will be thrilled and will stop pestering me to make sure you're breathing." He moved his head gingerly to the left and saw Carina.

She was in a hospital bed beside him. Her leg was in a cast and elevated but she was alert and gave him a dazzling smile.

"Carina…where….is…..is Sarah okay….the team …..what happened?" He felt a wave of nausea pass through him and then he was okay.

"Did we succeed…..the stealth virus…..?"

Carina looked over him. "Sit still Chuck….I'm pretty sure the Doctors will be back to get more blood and prod and poke you….I'll start to fill you in."

Softly, Carina started telling Chuck the story of the assault.

"Okay, as usual, once we blew the front door everything went to shit. The jammers stopped the Iranians from using the IEDs but they were well trained and were prepared to defend the house…to delay us."

Chuck finished her sentence. "Long enough for Azar to activate the drones and send them on their way."

Carina nodded. "Your little electromagnetic pulse worked too well. It disabled the drones but also wiped out our tactical communications and night vision goggles.

Inside the house it was chaos. We went room to room….making sure not to shoot one of our own people. I lost track of time during the fighting. I thought it would never end."

 _She closed her eyes and remembered the darkness, the muzzle flashes. She fought back to back with Casey as they inched through the house._

She opened her eyes again and looked at Chuck.

"They had guns, we had guns, they had grenades, and we had grenades." Carina reached up with her hand and patted the cast on her left leg. I took a piece of shrapnel, it went through my suit and broke the femur."

Carina went on to tell him that three of the terrorists had been killed. Casey was fine and had managed to capture Kazem. He was wounded but alive.

There was, however, a cost to their victory. One member of Commander Finny's team had been badly wounded.

Chuck took a careful look at his surroundings. This wasn't a normal hospital room. They were obviously in some sort of isolation.

Chuck gave Carina an inquisitive look.

"You and I are in quarantine for the next forty-eight hours. You were too close to the drones with the containers and my suit was torn….so….we're the guinea pigs for Colonel Fremes to poke and prick us."

Chuck vowed to himself that when his three year contract with the alphabet agencies was over, he was going to disappear to a quiet rural setting….with good Internet, of course.

There was a window on the opposite side of the room. His heart leapt when a tired looking, but beautiful, tall blonde appeared. Sarah smiled at him with her whole body.

She stabbed at a button. "Chuck…..how …." Sarah paused as she felt the tension in her body lessen. She fought back the tears welling up. "How are you feeling?"

He smiled and waved at her. "I'm tired …..what happened to me….my side hurts."

Sarah wiped at her eyes. "Chuck, I'm sorry I can't be with you in the room….but I'll be right here until you get out of there."

Chuck looked at the IV in his arm and winced as he moved in the bed. "Sarah?"

"Okay, that bitch Azar shot you. But I took care of her."

Chuck smiled….he remembered the black knight emerging from the darkness and killing Azar. The same black knight checked him out and then left. "It was you….you saved my life!"

Sarah laughed through her tears. "Of course it was me …that's my job from now on…to keep you safe."

She paused and then went on. "Azar was an expert shot. Three bullets hit in a tight grouping just an inch left of centre mass. The impact broke two of your ribs. When I left you….you….must have blacked out. You fell on your side and somehow bruised your left lung….when the medics got to you…..."

Sarah was so glad the backup team and the medics had gotten to him in time. "Chuck, you were having difficulty breathing…"

Sarah had felt torn about having left Chuck on his knees in the driveway..….but at the time he seemed fine…..she had been too focused on helping the team and…..

Chuck could see Sarah struggling with her emotions. "Sarah, you did the right thing…..helping the team…..you couldn't know that I would black out…..Hell, I didn't know I was going to faint."

Carina wanted to scratch her broken leg…..this damn cast. "So, is anyone going to ask me how I'm feeling?"

The three of them spent the next ten minutes sharing their stories of what had happened during the assault.

 **{o}**

 **Ten Hours Later 4pm.**

Colonel Fremes came into Chuck and Carina's room. She was all suited up and looked like an ultra-lite astronaut visiting earth.

Chuck could see Cassandra through her clear Perspex face plate.

She had a little speaker built into the suit. "So, Mr. Bartowski, good news for you and Agent Miller. Your blood tests are all coming up negative. We'll give it another twelve hours and then we'll let you rejoin the human race.

" I'm happy to say that we can start working on an antidote. We now have confirmed the chemical composition of what the Iranians had cooked up."

Chuck was happy to know he'd finally be able to touch and be touched by Sarah. "So, what happened back at Burford St.?"

Cassandra moved between Chuck and Carina's beds. "Burford St. is sealed off. We've moved all the people out into quarantine. They've all checked out as not carrying the pathogen. We'll move them back into their own houses in another week, once we've inspected and washed down the homes with bleach.

"The Iranian's house, itself, is being washed down with bleach. Then we'll carefully demolish it. Haul it away and incinerate the wreckage at a special site."

Carina got Cassandra's attention. "So, what's the story you're telling to the great unwashed public?"

"Well, the official story is that there was an ISIS terrorist cell (we're not saying it was the Iranians) and that they'd turned the house into a bomb making factory. We caught them in the nick of time."

Chuck smiled. "So, who is taking credit for catching them?"

Cassandra laughed. "The correct question is …who isn't taking credit. The CIA, the NSA, the DEA, the Army, Homeland Security and especially the President are all taking bows in public."

 **{o}**

 **Twelve hours later - January 11, 2008. 4am**

Chuck and Carina's beds were finally moved out of the quarantine area and into another, more normal looking hospital room. As soon as Chuck was outside the quarantined area, Sarah was beside his bed and grabbed his hand.

She walked beside him until he was in the other room and sat on the side of his bed. "Chuck Bartowski, you were supposed to leave that crazy machine of yours at the end of the driveway….not freaking half way up it!"

She wanted to be angry at him, but she kept smiling at him as she spoke the words.

Chuck had a twinkle in his eye. "So, are you the type of woman who doesn't like PDAs. I mean, no kiss for your fiancé?"

Carina, in the next bed, shook her head while observing a very gentle, but passionate, kiss. Sarah was being careful with Chuck's broken ribs. "God, why don't you guys get a room….preferably one without me in it"

 **{o}**

About an hour later Carina was approached by a senior DEA agent she'd worked with. He bent down and whispered in her ear. Chuck and Sarah couldn't hear what was being said, but saw the little smile on Carina's face.

Carina waited until the agent finished talking. She was very still for several seconds. "Yes, I'll talk to him."

Sarah gave Carina a knowing look. "Alright, alright…Esteban wants to talk with me."

Chuck was confused. "Wait a minute, I thought Esteban was going into witness protection…..how would he know what happened to you."

Carina gave them both a sheepish look. "One of the conditions of Esteban going into witness protection was he could stay in contact with me. I texted him two hours ago that I couldn't see him for a while….cause I broke my leg on a training mission."

Carina smoothed the top of the bed cover with her hand. "The only reason I said yes…was…well it will make my asset happy."

Sarah laughed. "Make my asset happy…..such bullshit. You're in need of some TLC and you're thrilled Esteban's making such a fuss to talk with you."

 **{o}**

Sarah helped Chuck into a wheel chair to get him out of the room and give Carina and Esteban some privacy while they talked on the phone.

When they returned, forty minutes later, Carina was asleep.

The sun wouldn't rise for another hour. They were both exhausted and emotionally drained.

Sarah helped Chuck back into his bed. She looked at the hard plastic chair beside his bed. Then she looked at Chuck's large hospital bed.

"Chuck can you squeeze a little to the left…..I mean without hurting your ribs and falling out of the bed."

It took a little bit of maneuvering but Sarah found just enough room to nestle her head on his right shoulder and lie down beside him. They drifted off to sleep quickly.

Carina opened one of her eyes and peeked over at the two of them nestled together.

Chuck Bartowski had a tigress sleeping beside him….the Sarah she'd known would never have been so docile and tender with a man.

 **{o}**

 **Three Days Later**. **January 14, 2008**

 **Washington D.C.- 2660 Connecticut Avenue NW- Sarah Walker's Apartment- 10am**

Sarah carried the two cups of freshly brewed coffee into the bedroom. A grateful CIA had flown Chuck and Sarah back to Washington last night on one of their G5s.

Chuck didn't want to see any more hospitals and had begged Sarah to take him back to her place.

The contusion on his left lung and his two broken ribs were healing. A nurse was scheduled to visit him once a day to monitor his progress. She was enjoying playing nursemaid to Chuck.

There was an element of mild frustration that Sarah was dealing with…..their sex life was on a two or maybe three week hold. Chuck needed a couple of weeks before ….well…"

She smiled to herself and recalled, years ago, reading about the Stanford 'Marshmallow Test'.

The test was simple….sit a four or five year old child down in a room. Before the adult left the room they told the child they could have the marshmallow now….. or….. if they waited and didn't touch the marshmallow, until the adult returned… they could have two marshmallows.

Sarah laughed out loud, she'd gladly wait for Chuck to properly heal. Then she would have her two marshmallows.

Chuck was sitting up in bed on a pyramid of soft pillows. "Why were you laughing?" Sarah smiled at him and handed him a cup of coffee…."I was thinking about marshmallows….you like them don't you Chuck?"

Chuck nodded. He would need a lifetime to figure out how Sarah Walker's mind worked.

 **Same Day**

 **Director Mac Showers Office**

 **CIA, Langley, VA –Noon**

Sarah was dressed in a gray-colored, conservative looking pantsuit. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and she was wearing the minimum of makeup. As she walked into the Director's office his assistant waved her to go right in.

Mac Showers, ever the old school gentleman, stood up when Sarah entered and walked her over to a small oval side table. He had ordered fresh coffee and finger sandwiches for their lunch.

The office was totally different than when Langston Graham had been in charge of the CIA.

The office was now bathed in light from outside and Mac's desk was modest in comparison to Graham's huge gothic piece of heavy oak.

Mac poured two cups of coffee and helped himself to a couple of sandwiches.

"How is Mr. Bartowski doing…..I'm told he's staying with you?"

Sarah updated the Director on Chuck and confirmed they were living together now and into the future.

"Agent Walker, you've been here long enough to know how things work in Washington…..you and your team have made me, Diane Beckman and Hortense Williams look good in the eyes of our boss. We, in turn, made the President look like a wise and a very able leader to Congress and the people."

Sarah put down her cup of coffee and waited.

Mac smiled at her. "It's time to reward you and your team."

Sarah suspected that she would be given a commendation that had happened before. She nibbled at one of the finger sandwiches.

"Agent Walker, I've agreed to serve as Director for two more years. My job is to clean up the mess that Langston Graham has left since his sudden demise." His face grew serious.

"You were not the only enforcer working for Langston Graham. There were two others.

One of them has taken early retirement and will be carefully watched for the rest of his life. The other enforcer is now in Leavenworth Prison and she most likely will be there for another thirty years. She grew to like what she was doing too much."

Sarah tensed up…...did Mac Showers plan on having her arrested. She waited, hid her nervousness and looked him steadily in the eye.

"Agent Walker, please relax. Remember, I promised you I would get you out from Graham's clutches, no more termination missions are in your future. Those days have ended. Actually, I have a favor to ask of you. But first…I want to talk to you about another matter….one of your past missions."

Sarah felt herself tense up. "Sir?"

Mac reached over to a side cabinet and pulled out a red file. "This is the file for a termination you carried out on Gayle Ardis, a former agent. According to the file, you killed her and her husband Brian in Edinburgh?"

Sarah didn't flinch, she held the Director's gaze. Inside, her stomach gave a flip and her heart sank.

"Agent Walker, you may not be aware that Gayle Ardis is my goddaughter. I'm close with her father."

Mac leaned forward. "Agent Walker, please relax…..notice I said 'is' my goddaughter.

"I know what you did and did not do in Edinburgh. I'm the one who warned Gayle that Graham had sent you to kill her. You did not follow your orders and for that…..I'm forever in your debt."

Sarah took in a deep breath. "Sir, I didn't know…my conscience...Gayle is my friend…"

Mac smiled at her. "By the way Gayle and Brian send their greetings…..now that Graham is gone, they can rejoin the land of the living."

Mac continued. "One more thing you should know….the head of British Intelligence, 'C', and I have always worked well together. I believe since Churchill's time the Brits call it ….a special relationship. _'Two countries separated by a common language'._

"Graham damaged that relationship…..I intend to fix it.

"My favor is this. I would like you to move to the UK for the next two years and help me repair that special relationship. By the way 'C' was very receptive to you being assigned as our chief liaison, you are highly regarded over there. Questions?"

Sarah had a dozen questions. But she needed to make one thing very clear. "Sir, I want to help…."

Mac Showers smiled. "I sense a 'but' coming…"

"Sir, I'm engaged to Chuck Bartowski….I can't, I won't, leave him….. even though this would be a dream assignment for me."

Mac stood up and walked to his window. "Agent Walker, the posting will of course generously accommodate a married couple. There will be a flat in London, a car and a very healthy living allowance."

He walked back and sat down. "I'm quite sure that Diane at the NSA and Hortense at the DEA would be open to seeing Mr. Bartowski seconded to GCHQ.

"The NSA does have that huge operation up on that RAF base in Menwith Hill. I imagine GCHQ would be happy to have someone of Mr. Bartowski's abilities in their stable for a bit."

Mac Showers gave Sarah a ghost of a smile.

"Of course, I don't want to get ahead of myself and interfere in the affairs of the heart. That I leave to you and Mr. Bartowski."

He stood up and Sarah knew this was his way to signal the meeting had ended. He shook her hand and walked her to the door. "Please think on the matter and get back to me in…..say a couple of days."

 **{o}**

 **A/N2- Sorry for the length of this chapter...but I didn't want to leave you with another cliff hanger.**

 **A/N3- Working on the epilogue, then I will take your leave and enjoy what's left of the great Canadian summer.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N** \- Finally, the Epilogue. A gilt edged thank you to michaelfmx, who graciously spent hours editing and making wise suggestions along the way. Zettel and WvonB, merci beaucoup, for your encouragement. To the patient readers who followed the story, to those who PM'd and reviewed, thank you.

 _He is the half part of a blessed man,_

 _Left to be finished by such as she:_

 _And she a fair divided excellence,_

 _Whose fullness of perfection lies in him._

 _Shakespeare-(King John, Act 2 Scene 1)_

 ** _From Chapter 19_**

 _Sarah had a dozen questions. But she needed to make one thing very clear. "Sir, I want to help…."_

 _Mac Showers smiled. "I sense a 'but' coming…"_

 _"_ _Sir, I'm engaged to Chuck Bartowski….I can't, I won't_ _,_ _leave him….. even though this would be a dream assignment for me."_

 _Mac stood up and walked to his window. "Agent Walker, the posting will_ , _of course_ , _generously accommodate a married couple. There will be a flat in London, a car and a very healthy living allowance."_

 _He walked back and sat down. "I'm quite sure that Diane at the NSA and Hortense at the DEA would be open to seeing Mr. Bartowski seconded to GCHQ._

 _"_ _The NSA does have that huge operation up on that RAF base in Menwith Hill. I imagine GCHQ would be happy to have someone of Mr. Bartowski's abilities in their stable for a bit."_

 _Mac Showers gave Sarah a ghost of a smile._

 _"_ _Of course_ _,_ _I don't want to get ahead of myself and interfere in the affairs of the heart. That I leave to you and Mr. Bartowski."_

 _He stood up and Sarah knew this was his way to signal the meeting had ended. He shook her hand and walked her to the door. "Please think on the matter and get back to me in…..say a couple of days."_

 **Epilogue**

 **Fourteen Months Later, May 2, 2009**

 _Hi, my name is Chuck and here are some things you may not know._

 _I now live overseas. To be a little more precise, we live in the UK. I still work for the NSA, the CIA and the DEA. Sarah works for the CIA and is the chief liaison with MI6._

 _My life, er...excuse me our life, is a little peripatetic._

 _Ahhh, sorry, I think I'm getting ahead of myself._

 _So, let's rewind the tape. Sarah Walker and I are a married couple. It all happened within the space of two weeks. Sarah came back from a meeting with Mac Showers, the CIA Director. She was agitated and more anxious than I'd ever seen her._

 _It was obvious she wanted to tell me or ask me something._

 _She came into the bedroom, I was still propped up in bed because of my rib injury. Sarah paced back and forth at the foot of the bed. It looked like she was working up her courage….to do what…?_

 _Finally, I couldn't stand the suspense anymore. "Sarah, please just spit it out….what's wrong?" She came and gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed, being careful due to my banged up condition._

 _After a deep intake of breath, she told me about Mac Showers' job offer. The last little piece of her story ….she relayed while looking intensely into my eyes. "Chuck, I think our engagement should be a short one."_

 _"_ _How short?"_

 _In a hesitant voice she answered my question. "About two weeks….your ribs should be much better by then." She leaned forward and lightly touched her lips to mine. "The honeymoon should be in Scotland, there's a tiny island on the west coast…..called Lismore…you'll love it there, peaceful and beautiful."_

 _Now, I think you know that I was dying to go to Paris. I mean it's something I've always wanted to do. To see the city of lights. Sarah didn't go into the why's…. but it's obvious that she has some issues with the City of Paris._

 _She wouldn't tell me the specifics. She would only say that something happened there…..some sort of test which left a bad taste in her mouth._

 _Anyways, when a tall, long legged, blue eyed blonde takes your head into her soft hands and looks intensely into your eyes well…it's hard to say no._

 _As she held my head in her warm hands….I could feel my heartbeat increase when she said. "Chuck, I'll make it up to you…..bigtime….if we can go to Lismore for the post nuptials"._

 _I think, in that instance, I got an inkling into what being married to Sarah Walker would be like. I mean, one minute I'm afraid to move too quickly because of my ribs._

 _The next minute..or the next…well…we're going to be married in two weeks and have our honeymoon on a tiny island off the west coast of Scotland._

 _Oh, I forgot to mention that the honeymoon would require me to move a lot more vigorously than I'm capable of at the moment._

 _Ellie flew out with Devon the next day. Sarah's apartment was crowded but alive with activity from dawn till dusk. Ellie and Sarah planned the wedding in record time. Much to my surprise, Casey accepted the invitation to attend. Carina was the maid of honor and Morgan was my best man._

 _Sarah told me she didn't need anyone to give her away. She would walk into our marriage by her own volition._

 _Sarah was of course correct, my ribs and left lung were feeling much better the day we married. I was, as they say, willing and able to perform my spousal duty on the tiny island of Lismore. The sheep didn't seem to bothered by the noise coming from our delightful hundred year old croft._

 _Hard to believe we've been married for fourteen months._

 _Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. Sarah wanted the two of us to have another session with the therapist, Dr. Owens._

 _We covered a lot of ground, but the piece I want to share is about a paradox Dr. Owens raised._

 _We were halfway through the session when Dr. Owens leaned forward. "Chuck and Sarah, I strongly suspect that as time goes on in your relationship, both of you, especially you Sarah, will start to relax your guard. The two of you will begin to feel very safe in each other's presence."_

 _I was a little nervous. "Isn't that a good thing ….I mean to feel safe…in each other's presence?"_

 _That's when Dr. Owens laid the paradox piece on us both. "As you both know, each of you have deep rooted abandonment issues. They haven't gone away, you'll be working on them the rest of your lives."_

 _Dr. Owens stood up and started walking back and forth in front of us. "The safer you feel with each other, the better it is for you._

 _"_ _However, the subconscious is a funny beast. Because you feel safe; your trust of each other will grow…rapidly. The subconscious will inevitably choose to start working on things it wants to sort out._

 _"_ _However, up until now the subconscious wouldn't allow you to look at these issues… ….mainly because both of you were trying to survive …day to day."_

 _I must've looked confused. Sarah was rooted in her seat, but I could tell she was also trying to figure out what the hell Dr. Owens was driving at._

 _"_ _Let me put it another way. When you hit the tough spots in your marriage…keep talking, because most likely one or the other of you is working on some tough inner stuff. The reason you or Chuck is willing to work on the tough inner stuff…. It will be because you know the other person isn't going to reject you…Am I making sense to you?"_

 _Sarah finally jumped into the discussion. "Are you saying that while I'm working on this subconscious…. Really shitty stuff….well it won't be easy on Chuck…..but I'm doing it because I know I'm safe with Chuck. And I'm going to risk being a bitch because he will hang in and still love me._

 _Dr. Owens nodded and smiled at Sarah. "Every couple goes through it….not every couple survives it. Some of my colleagues call it the power struggle."_

 _I was sitting there and thinking Dr. Owens was talking through her hat._

 _Now I know your next question. Have Sarah and I had some of those 'power' struggles?_

 _Hell, yes! Sarah Walker gives her opinions decidedly. She can be ….my god…she is a force of nature. But, I'm happy to say….so far we've managed to work through a couple of issues that have reared their heads._

 _I must say, Devon was absolutely correct, make up sex is truly awesome._

 _The CIA was very generous with our living allowance. Sarah got a promotion and I got a raise. I'm now on level 14, step 10 of the newly released OMB schedule. Oh, and Ellie got another $40,000 research grant._

 _My life with Sarah Walker is far from simple. But simple is boring._

 _Let me give you an idea what a normal week looks like, even though with Sarah's job there's lots of 'not-normal' weeks._

 _Monday to Wednesday I'm in London at the MI6 headquarters on the Thames. I work with their analysts and their IT Nerds, thereby fulfilling my obligation to the CIA. On Wednesday night I catch the train and head to York. I work Thursday and Friday at RAF Menwith Hill, thereby keeping General Diane Beckman happy with my obligations to the NSA._

 _Once every eight weeks Sarah has to go back to Langley for a week of briefings, requalification classes and reporting on her insights about our British friends. I spend the week back in DC working with Carina, thereby keeping the DEA happy._

 _So far, so good …..not perfect but the pay cheques keep arriving in my bank account. I can only assume my three masters like the work I'm doing._

 _Sarah spends Monday to Thursday in London. She catches the train to York on Thursday right after work. She then spends Friday with me at Menwith Hill, liaising with GCHQ._

 _We have two leased apartments (they call them flats over here). We have a two bedroom flat (thank you CIA) in Greenwich. The really neat thing is that Sarah and I can get to work at MI6 in twenty-seven minutes on the tube._

 _Sometimes, even though it takes longer….we'll take the Thames River bus and talk with each other as we cruise down the river to our stop in Greenwich._

 _As I mentioned earlier, Sarah joins me up in Yorkshire on Thursday night. I pick her up at the train station in York._

 _We have a tiny flat in a small, two pub village called Spofforth._

 _It's a half hour from the city of York and a half hour from Menwith Hill._

 _Most weeks we stay up in Yorkshire for the weekend. Sarah and I both love London, but we also love getting out of London._

 _Sometimes we head up to Edinburgh and spend the weekend with Sarah's friend and her former CIA instructor, Gayle Ardis, and her husband Brian._

 _On Sunday night we catch the train from York that goes back to London._

 _Like I said, that's in a normal week. Sometimes, Sarah is on surveillance work…..keeping an eye on the Russians. There are a lot of Russians in the UK. Rich ones, poor ones, nice ones, criminal ones and really nasty FSB types. _The British are growing very, very concerned about the Russians and Putin.__

 _ _Sarah speaks Russian fluently and enjoys working with the woman who runs the 'Russian desk' at MI6.__

 _Emma Cowthorpe, who runs the Russian Desk, received a first class degree in Languages at Oxford. She was recruited by MI6 in her second year. If memory serves, I think Emma is the second daughter of Captain Harold Cowthorpe, RN, retired. Sarah likes Emma._

 _We've had Emma and her partner Roger over to our Greenwich flat a couple of times. After one, two or three drinks the two women slip into speaking Russian. Roger shrugs his shoulders gives me a look that says…. just wait….soon they'll start singing the 'Volga Boat' song. He then gently reminds Emma to please speak English!_

 **{o}**

 **York, UK. May 2, 2009- Noon**

 **Shambles Market**

The market was crowded on this warm spring day. It had rained last night but now the sky was a brilliant blue. The sound of buskers, hawkers and people enjoying the day filled the street and rose up to the roof tops.

Sally Beckwith was working today. She was dressed in jeans and a blue windbreaker. Yesterday had been her seventeenth birthday. Sadly, there were no parents or siblings to celebrate with. She'd run away from a dysfunctional family at fourteen and learned to survive; staying out of the clutches of the social workers and the police.

Saturday's were always a great day for her and her crew of two teenage boys, Boyd and Mike.

She was a modern day 'artful dodger', a skilled pickpocket. She had been the boss of this crew for seven months. Twenty per cent of everything she stole went to her boss, Robert Cray. The head of the local gang.

Her target, a young couple, was fast approaching.

There was a tall brown-haired man walking and talking to a beautiful tall blonde woman. The woman's focus was on her companion. They were walking and laughing.

Sally nodded to her crew.

The two teenaged boys moved closer to initiate the bump technique on the young couple.

In under two seconds Sally would have the tall man's wallet and pass it off to Boyd. The couple were so caught up in each other that they wouldn't even notice until he went to pay for something.

Mike moved in to bump the blonde woman. Boyd bumped the tall man. Sally had her hands on the wallet.

Several things happened in less than three heart beats.

Mike let out a gasp and fell onto his knees. He was holding his stomach like he'd been punched.

Boyd was grasped firmly in the arms of the tall man and was struggling, with little success, to break free.

Sally felt the vise like grip on her wrist. The blonde woman was looking at her. She twisted Sally's wrist and pain shot all the way up her arm. The blonde then plucked the wallet from Sally's hand. Only then did she let go of her wrist.

Sally wondered what was going to happen next.

Was the couple going to call the police standing just a hundred yards away?

Sally waited for the inevitable, wondering how she would get out of this one.

Instead, the blonde woman stepped back and tapped the tall man's shoulder to let Boyd go. Boyd and Mike quickly disappeared into the crowd.

Sally's first instinct was to run. However, she was transfixed by the deep blue eyes of the tall blonde. She just stood there.

The blonde handed the wallet back to the tall man with the curly brown hair.

He gave the blonde a warm smile then he turned to Sally. "Wow, did you ever pick the wrong couple to steal from. Actually, if it had just been me…it would've worked…you're pretty good."

The blonde finally spoke. "What's your name?" For some reason Sally couldn't explain, she actually answered the question instead of telling the woman to go to hell.

"Sally."

"Okay, Sally. My husband's correct….you're a good pick pocket….he wouldn't have noticed if he'd been by himself." The tall woman's eyes were measuring Sally from head to toe.

"I've done what you're doing. This won't end well for you."

Sally looked carefully at the blonde. She didn't look like someone who talked a lot.

The blonde sighed inwardly and reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. The card was blank with only a phone number. "When the time comes… if…when you want out…call that number…ask for Sarah."

And just like that the blonde turned on her heel, grabbed her husband's arm and they walked into the market.

 **{o}**

Sarah was quiet as she and Chuck walked, side by side, away from the Shambles market.

Chuck was very patient with Sarah when she went quiet like this. Finally, he bent down and whispered to her. "A penny…or here in York…..I guess you say.. a farthing for your thoughts?"

Sarah came out of her own thoughts and put her arm around his waist. "Chuck, that young girl is just trying to survive….survive life. I know what that's like…." She tugged on his waist to bring him even closer.

"Chuck, do you realize how much being with you means to me?" He squeezed her shoulder to let her know that he knew.

He gave her a tiny bump with his hip. "You giving that 'artful dodger', your ultra-private number … is I think a first. I hope someday in the future Sally can muster the courage to reach out to you."

 **{o}**

 **That Night, Village of Spofforth, Yorkshire**

Sarah lay in their queen sized bed waiting for Chuck to finish up in the bathroom.

They'd had a great day with each other doing nothing special. She could relax with Chuck, let her guard down and live in the moment. Be in the moment.

They'd gone to York that morning for an early breakfast. Later, they'd walked hand in hand and talked as they explored the oldest part of the town. Chuck was a voracious reader. He gave Sarah a running commentary on the history of the town. Apparently, York or 'Jorvick" is the best preserved Viking city that has ever been excavated. Before that it was a Roman provincial town back in 71AD.

After the incident with Sally, the pick pocket, they'd driven out to the little village of Kilburn.

Chuck had been eager to show her a place he'd discovered while driving around.

In Kilburn there is a long established family firm that makes solid oak furniture, the old way. They still used adzes on well-seasoned oak. When the piece of furniture was finished by the craftsman. He or she carved a tiny little mouse onto a hidden part of the furniture.

Sarah smiled to herself because while they were in Kilburn, she saw an oak chair, she knew Chuck wanted.

She would go back by herself, next week, and buy it for Chuck's upcoming birthday. It wasn't lost on her that this would be the first piece of furniture they'd purchased together as a married couple.

Everything else in their two flats was either provided by the CIA or came as part of the furnished flat. More and more she kept thinking of acquiring a place for them. They'd talked about it several times and Chuck was eager to get on with it.

She was growing weary of living in some rented or 'company' owned apartment. Fortunately, Chuck had shipped over his Tron poster. It had pride of place in their bedroom here.

They both wanted to start a family and the discussions were quickly moving from the theoretical to let's get started.

Chuck was wise and ever so patient with her caution, especially when change was knocking on the door.

She looked over at the bathroom, she wanted him in bed beside her. "Chuck, it's not a good idea to keep your wife waiting…..what's taking _so long_?"

Sarah reflected on the fact that she'd smiled and laughed more in the last fourteen months than in the previous eight years of her life.

She was happy. Chuck was her light, he brightened her day and her night. She in turn was his joy and often his greatest desire.

Sarah fingered her jade green silk negligee that she was sure Chuck would like.

Being married to Chuck Bartowski had changed Sarah, just as she was aware that she'd changed Chuck. He was a more confident in himself. He had cast aside the belief that Sarah was too beautiful, too amazing…too everything. His belief that she was out of his league.

Sarah snorted. What utter nonsense, but it took time for her to convince him this was truly a marriage of equals.

The light in the bathroom finally went out and Chuck came towards the bed.

He suddenly stopped.

Sarah looked up at him. This was unusual and unexpected. Chuck normally would hop into bed and she would meld her body into his….immediately putting her cold feet up against his warm feet and legs.

"What's up Chuck?"

He started a slow pacing up and down the length of their bed. "Ahhh, I wanted to tell you something….I've wanted to tell you for a long time now. I know that secrets in a marriage are not a good thing…."

He looked down at her, watching for a reaction. She didn't show him how nervous he'd just made her. _What the hell….I mean where was Chuck going with this?…."_

Instead she tried to calm him. Get him to talk. "Breathe Chuck….always breathe…"

He was standing there in his black, Lord of the Rings, one ring to rule them all T-shirt and his black boxer shorts.

"Sarah, do you remember when you told me about the times you didn't follow Graham's termination orders?" She managed to nod. Her stomach did a flip.

She felt a chill go through her body. _God, I don't want to go down this road…not again. It was tough enough the first time._

"Well, you mentioned Gars, the young elite hacker. You remember, instead of killing him you handed him over to MI6." He looked at his wife, he could see that she'd tensed up.

"Okay, you also mentioned some other hackers the CIA was looking for…you mentioned Orion, the Piranha and …some others."

He looked down at her deep blue eyes…."Sarah….I'm the Piranha…I don't want to hide that from you….not any longer."

Sarah felt the relief flood through her. But she didn't show it to him….not just yet.

Of course he was the Piranha! His skill with computers and hacking was acknowledged on both sides of the Atlantic by the CIA and MI6. She and Tom Corrigan were officially still looking for Orion and the Piranha.

Looks like she'd just found one of them.

Sarah put on her serious, boy you're in 'real deep shit' face. She matched the look to her tone.

"So, you're telling me that my husband is one of the world's elite hackers….someone who's never been caught by the CIA , NSA, MI6 or the FSB….you're that guy?."

Chuck looked concerned and a little sheepish. "Yep, I'm that guy….you're the only person who knows that….I mean besides me."

Sarah realized that Chuck had just given her a very special gift. It had taken him fourteen months of marriage to finally trust her enough with one of his most precious and dangerous secrets.

But Chuck had given her a gift that came with a curse.

She knew that Chuck didn't want anyone else to know his secret.

Certainly he didn't want her employer, the CIA, and certainly not the NSA to know who he was.

She would now have to add one more secret to her list. A list of important information, secrets that the CIA didn't know about Sarah Walker….and now, added to that list…. a secret about her husband.

Sarah laid her head back down on the pillow. Her golden hair spread over the pillow… she looked up at him. The light caught her dark blue eyes.

Chuck was still standing, stock still, by the side of the bed. Sarah's tone was softer and filled with a whisper of promise.

"Chuck, come and lie down beside me. It is my bounded duty to carefully and slowly interrogate the Piranha. I'm going to have to winkle out all of his secrets…..this may take all night"

 **The End**


End file.
